A Transfer To Dalton Academy
by TheDailyFibb
Summary: A fanfiction based around Kurt's time at Dalton Academy with Blaine. For the most part, in keeping with Glee show canon from season 2.
1. Chapter 1

Kurt Hummel approached the daunting castle of Dalton Academy, pausing to straighten his tie. He already felt stifled in his new uniform; despite his extensive wardrobe, he had never really been one for school blazers, and it only added to his nerves.

"Kurt!" The boy turned back to the car he had just climbed out of. His father, Burt, looked at him, concerned, through the passenger window. "Are you alright?"

Kurt nodded slowly, swallowing. "It's just a lot bigger than I remember," he called back, smiling nervously. He walked back to the car, his new shoes crunching on the gravel. "I'm fine, Dad. Promise." Burt nodded supportively. "I love you, Dad."

For a moment, Kurt couldn't tell if his father was going to cry, but then: "I love you too, Kurt. Have a good day; I'll see you later."

Kurt smiled and nodded again, straightening up. "Bye."

It was when the car pulled out onto the road, disappearing behind the buildings, that Kurt felt alone, stifled by the silence and this damn uniform. He wondered how good an idea it was to transfer to Dalton so quickly, but his mind flashed back to McKinley High School, and David Karofsky, staring hate at him: "I'll kill you." No. Moving here, away from that, was definitely the best thing to do. Deep breath. Courage.

He smiled at the thought of that: of Blaine, who was somewhere in this labyrinth of historical architecture. Kurt's phone buzzed. Speak of the devil...

_How are you enjoying it so far?_

Kurt rolled his eyes, but pressed 'Reply'. He couldn't not when it was Blaine.

_I'm outside and already lost. Where am I supposed to go anyway?_

The reply came swiftly, and made Kurt frown:

_Wait there._

Was Blaine coming to get him? That seemed a bit drastic, since the other boy must have had things to do and didn't even know where Kurt was. Kurt remembered his last visit – Dalton had a huge amount of outside space, with different blocks for different subjects. He supposed if Blaine could find him in this place, it couldn't be so difficult.

"Kurt!" Recognising the voice immediately, Kurt span around and beamed. Blaine Anderson had rounded the nearest corner and was jogging towards him, grinning.

"Hey!" Kurt walked to meet the other boy. They met and smiled at each other. Blaine collected Kurt in a brief, but tight, hug. "I didn't realise you were my chaperone," Kurt laughed.

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "Well, we couldn't have you wandering around school grounds hopelessly lost," he replied. "Besides, we've still got a while before morning lessons start. I thought I could show you some highlights of the school."

"Presumably the first and only being the Warblers' hall?" Kurt asked.

Blaine flushed awkwardly. "Maybe," he said to the floor.

Kurt beamed again as his heart skipped a beat. His stomach was tying itself in knots and he knew it wasn't from first-day nerves anymore. "Sounds great," he said quickly when Blaine's eyes met his.

Blaine smiled, smoothly grabbing Kurt's hand and pulling him with him. "Well, come on then," he whispered, close enough that Kurt blushed as the pair hurried through the school grounds and then into a large building that Kurt had noticed earlier. He stopped fruitlessly trying to remember the route, and concentrated on keeping up with Blaine, clutching his hand tightly.

They arrived at a huge oak door, which Blaine pressed his back against. "Here we are," he announced, breathless from the trip. "Welcome to the Warblers' hall!" The door opened behind him as he leant against it, and he and Kurt stepped inside.

Kurt was surprised: the room was mostly filled with sofas and armchairs, with a fireplace against one wall, a table with chairs near another, and a piano in the far corner. He recognised the room, when he thought about it, from his first time to Dalton when he had seen the Warblers perform for the first time, but he had been too distracted by Blaine's breathtaking performance to notice it. He nodded in approval. "It seems smaller when it's full of people," he noted.

Blaine laughed airily. "Yeah, I suppose so," he agreed, standing next to Kurt and taking in the room yet again. He put his arm round Kurt's shoulders. "We still have a little time," he added quietly, and pushed Kurt in the direction of the piano.

"What?" Kurt exclaimed, freezing halfway there. "You want to sing? Now?"

Blaine leapt into the piano seat and started to run his fingers over the keys playfully, looking up at Kurt. "If you want to join the Warblers before Sectionals," he explained, "you'll have to sing sometime."

Kurt's heart had leapt. Blaine wanted to sing... with him. He felt suddenly self-conscious: Blaine had never heard him sing before. But, taking a breath, he slid onto the seat next to Blaine, who grinned at him.

The chords were easily recognisable, and Kurt inhaled sharply when he realised what song Blaine was playing. The darker-haired boy looked back at his friend, who was watching him play with fascination, and smiled, beginning to sing.

This is the way you left me,

I'm not pretending,

No hope, no love, no glory,

No happy ending.

Kurt caught himself staring at Blaine with unmasked delight – listening to his friend sing made his breath catch in his throat and set his stomach doing backflips – and he closed his eyes, managing to come in with the higher harmony just in time.

This is the way that we love,

Like it's forever,

Then live the rest of our lives,

But not together.

Blaine nodded his head slightly, motioning for Kurt to continue singing. Kurt smiled and nodded in return, before staring awkwardly at the piano keys where Blaine's hands were moving with ease.

Wake up in the morning, stumble on my life,

Can't get no love without sacrifice.

If anything should happen, I guess I wish you well,

Mmm, a little bit of heaven, but a little bit of hell.

Blaine came back in with a selection of well-timed 'ooh's and harmonies and Kurt kept singing.

This is the hardest story that I've ever told,

No, hope, no love, no glory, happy ending's gone forevermore, oh –

I _(This is the way you left me, I'm not pretending)_

Feel as if I'm wasted _(No hope, no love, no glory, no happy ending)_

And I've _(This is the way that we love, like it's forever)_

Wasted every day _(Then live the rest of our lives, but not together)_

A loud bell sounded briefly, and Blaine's hands faltered on the keys as he jumped. The sudden ensuing silence seemed deafening and much too long as he and Kurt looked at each other.

Blaine blinked, breaking the stillness. "Oh, crap!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet and pulling Kurt to his. "We're late! You're late! We have to go!" Kurt straightened his satchel (he'd been too distracted to take it off) and Blaine reached for his rucksack, which was under the piano (and must have been left there when he went to fetch Kurt) and the two of them rushed out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

After dropping Kurt off at front reception, Blaine all but sprinted to his home room. He swung through the door just as his name was called.

"Here, sir," he called breathlessly to the bespeckled teacher sitting at the desk.

"Mr Anderson," came the reply, "late? That's not like you."

Blaine paused, looking up. "Well, sir," he explained, "my friend transferred and it's his first day, so I thought I'd show him round a little."

His tutor smiled, tutting. "I suppose I can let you off this once."

Blaine nodded: he understood. He took his seat in between Wes and David, leaning his bag against the leg of his chair. The two boys looked at him expectantly. "What?" he asked innocently.

David rolled his eyes, and Wes said, "we know how much you've been looking forward to this, Blaine. How'd it go? Is he alright?" They were almost as aware of Kurt's trouble at his old high school as Blaine was, and had both liked Kurt when they met him.

"He's doing fine," Blaine answered. "I walked him to reception, and I guess he'll be in class later."

"What's going on?" Their fellow Warbler, Trent, turned around to face Blaine, David and Wes. "Your friend's transferred?"

Blaine nodded enthusiastically, repositioning himself to be able to talk to Trent. "You remember that 'spy' who watched us perform the month before last?" He almost laughed, recalling himself the moment Kurt had stopped him on the stairs, introducing himself as a new student while very blatantly breaking uniform rule Dalton had. It was completely laughable that today, that was happening for real.

Trent said, "ah," remembering the shy-looking boy Blaine had led into the room; he had assumed that this boy was the reason Blaine had been late for that performance too. He guessed he was right, in thinking that this boy was the only reason Blaine had been late for... anything, since Trent had known him. Blaine was very punctual. "So, are you guys going out?" he asked more quietly.

Blaine choked on air in surprise and turned to Wes and David but found them looking expectantly at him. "What?" he said weakly.

"We were wondering that, too," David said, and Wes nodded.

Trent looked suddenly apologetic. "Oh no, Blaine, I'm sorry, it's just, you know... you're gay and you're late for class because you're spending time with a guy..." He trailed off sheepishly.

"No, it's fine," Blaine replied slowly, looking blankly at his desk. Was that what they all thought? He supposed it made sense, but still... he hadn't really thought about it until then: he loved spending time with Kurt, but he did with his other friends too. Just because Kurt was gay, it didn't mean they had to be an item. Blaine chewed his lip awkwardly, looking back up at his friends. "But we're not, just so you know," he answered eventually. "We're friends. He's been going through some stuff, so okay, we've maybe been hanging out a lot, but..." He shrugged, figuring that he'd put his point across.

The other boys nodded at him, and Wes thought it was probably time to change the train of conversation. "Is Kurt thinking of joining the Warblers, then?"

Although they hadn't officially talked about it, Blaine thought he could work out the answer, but sufficed with, "I really hope so."

Wes raised his eyebrows and David as David did the same at him; Trent just smiled. Blaine looked up at them and paused. "What?"

"Nothing," they chorused in unison, right before the bell sounded.

"Okay, everyone, off you go," their teacher called without looking up from his book. "Have a good day."

The boys filed out of the room, all heading towards their lessons. Blaine and Trent bid Wes and David goodbye and the two parties headed in opposite directions.

"Blaine!" came a voice behind him and Trent, and they turned to see Kurt jumping through the crowd, against the flow of boys walking towards him. "Blaine!" When Kurt saw that his friend had stopped, he slowed and stopped shouting. He eventually caught up with the two of them and stopped, panting. Blaine noticed that his tie was askew and nearly laughed, settling for a big grin.

"Kurt," he smiled happily. There was a pause, and Kurt looked expectantly from Blaine to Trent. Trent saw that Blaine was completely distracted staring at Kurt and rolled his eyes good-naturedly, holding out a hand to Kurt, who shook it.

"I'm Trent," Trent said. "I'm in the Warblers with Blaine."

"Oh, wow!" Kurt replied, thinking that he did recognise the boy a little. "Kurt Hummel."

Blaine snapped back into action, sniffing in an attempt at nonchalance. "So, Kurt –" he leant on the wall " – where are you headed?" The inquiry about their relationship had caught him off-guard and his brain was tirelessly overanalysing it and Kurt's body language wasn't answering anything.

Kurt laughed a little in a nervous fashion. "That's the problem... I don't know." Blaine noticed for the first time that he was holding his timetable in one hand, a school map in the other. "I've always been terrible with maps," Kurt sighed, gesturing feebly at the two pieces of paper. "I'm trying to get to Spanish, thought you could maybe show me the way...?" He looked up and Blaine's eyes met his. "...if you had time," he finished, with a charming smile.

Trent raised his eyebrows at Blaine's overly enthusiastic reply: "Of course! Actually, there's where we're going right now." Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt by the sleeve, pulling him along as he and Trent resumed walking. The three of them walked through the endless Dalton corridors until they reached the Spanish classrooms. Kurt checked his timetable again.

"I'm in here," he said, gesturing at the nearest door.

Blaine and Trent nodded towards the classroom next door, motioning that that was where they were going. Kurt smiled and pushed the door open. "Well, I'll see you later, then."

Trent stepped in again when Blaine failed to reply, distracted by Kurt's smile and wonky tie. "Yep. We'll see you at first break, Kurt."

"Yes!" Blaine added just in time. "We'll wait out here for you."

Kurt beamed again at Blaine, and disappeared into the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt spent the whole of the Spanish lesson daydreaming. After his teacher welcomed him to the class and pointed him towards an empty desk, he effectively stopped listening and started staring out the window, thinking. Of course, he was glad to be out of Karofsky's way, and he couldn't say he missed Sue Sylvester, but he reminisced with a heavy heart about the past year or so he's had in New Directions and was already missing Mercedes (who, he was sure, would be intent on hearing all about his first day). Kurt closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to think positively. He was safe, he was sure his grades were going to skyrocket... and he was with Blaine. Blaine had taken up at least a small part of Kurt's coherent thoughts since the day they had met, and Kurt had frankly no doubt that, at the very least, he was crushing on Blaine like crazy. But the other boy was so hard to read and it was frustrating. Kurt hadn't even managed to find out whether Blaine was single or not, and he doubted it very sadly. And, despite the quite honestly smothering signals Blaine was sending him, he didn't appear to realise; was he just that way with everyone? He made a mental note to check next time he saw Blaine.

Kurt had been copying down notes from the board without thinking, but he felt eyes upon and looked up to see his teacher and a selection of the students looking him expectantly. "I'm sorry, Miss?" Kurt asked when he felt the silence had gone on long enough.

The young woman at the front of the room looked worried. "Are you alright, Kurt?" she asked carefully.

Kurt smiled and shrugged. "Yes. Thank you. I think it's just the sudden change, I'm still... assimilating." When his story was accepted, he exhaled quietly. Stop making yourself so obvious, Kurt.

He made it through until the bell, and saw Blaine waiting for him with Trent.

"Wes and David are meeting us in the memorial garden," Blaine summarised, after smiling in greeting at Kurt.


	4. Chapter 4

Lots of the Warblers congregated in the memorial garden, but that day it was empty.

"Whose memory is the garden for?" asked Kurt, looking at Blaine.

Blaine shrugged. "I heard that it was a student who died in an accident."

"Oh my god!" Trent cried. "That's so sad!"

"...But I also heard it was for a teacher's wife, and that it was a statement about the fragility of society, or something," Blaine continued.

"Is there a plaque or anything?" Kurt asked.

"Not one that we've found."

They heard footsteps behind them and turned to see David and Wes, both looking like they were trying (and failing) to be as quiet as possible.

"Damn it, were gonna sneak up on you," David moaned.

Blaine laughed, making a beeline for a nearby bench and motioning for Kurt to sit next to him. Wes and David had started bickering between them and Trent was making a brave stab at keeping some kind of peace.

"So, how was Spanish?" Blaine asked Kurt, resting his elbow on the back of the bench between them.

There was a pause as Kurt decided how best to answer the question. "Well," he began, "my teacher seems pretty nice –"

"You weren't listening, were you?"

Kurt laughed guiltily, and Blaine couldn't help smiling. "I was the same when I first transferred," he explained. "Couldn't help thinking about my old school, my old friends, how different it is here at Dalton..." When Kurt went suddenly quiet at this, Blaine looked at him. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Kurt flashed him the same smile he gave his Spanish teacher, but Blaine didn't buy it. "What's up?"

Another pause. "I don't know..." came Kurt's eventual reply.

Blaine put his arms round Kurt's shoulders in a sideways hug, resting his temple against Kurt's. "Give it some time," he advised. "That tends to help."

Both boys jumped when they heard a loud laugh from behind them. They turned to see Wes, with David next to him in near hysterics. Kurt only noticed that Blaine had taken his arms off him after they were gone.

"Guys!" Blaine yelled, looking indignantly round to Trent, who was hiding a smile.

"Sorry, Blaine." David was acting like a petulant child and he stuck out his bottom lip before collapsing into laughter again.

"Sorry," Wes said, more seriously, looking to Kurt. He motioned at Blaine. "We just think that he needs to get a boyfriend so he'll stop being such a martyr about being single."

Kurt looked at Blaine, whose face had reddened and who was staring awkwardly at his feet.

"You're single?" Kurt clarified, wondering if Blaine could hear the extent that his heart had sped up.

Blaine shrugged noncommittally. "Well... yeah."

Kurt swallowed back his smile, managing to just nod and say, "okay." The other Warblers looked at each other with raised eyebrows, before jumping onto the bench with them.

"So, Kurt," Trent said as he squeezed himself in between Blaine and David, "are you thinking of joining the Warblers?"

Kurt beamed so brightly that Blaine's heart fluttered for a moment. "Definitely!" he responded quickly. "I was in the glee club at my last school – we were called the New Directions – it was so much fun! And you guys are a cappella? That's so cool! And there's no Rachel Berry here either, and no Mr Schue – I mean, he's great, but a little biased when it comes to solos..."

Blaine watched as Kurt continued to talk, thinking. Did he have a thing for Kurt Hummel? He could believe it, he supposed – but he did have a bad track record of crushes and he didn't want to spoil their already blooming friendship. Give it time, he thought, deciding to take his own advice.


	5. Chapter 5

Burt had come to pick Kurt up exactly on time. "How was it?" he'd asked the moment Kurt had climbed it.

"Good," Kurt had replied with a smile. "Really good."

Now he was texting Mercedes regarding the day – and, more specifically, Blaine.

_He showed me the Warblers' hall this morning, and we sang together._

_Aw, cute 3 so he cute AND gay? Snap him up, Hummel! Xx_

_IDK if he likes me too, though._

_What's not to like? Xx_

_Haha :) x_

But it hadn't come to anything and Kurt was still hopelessly unsure about the situation.

_Give it a bit of time! It's only day 1 xx_

He sighed. Mercedes was right. Leaping into this so soon couldn't be good: maybe he was getting over the leave from McKinley in a weird way. Or maybe, his mind teased, it's because he's the first gay guy you've met (excluding, for obvious reasons, Dave Karofsky and Sandy Ryerson). Besides, worrying wasn't going to get him anywhere. Kurt leaned back into the car seat, feeling the leather behind him and watching the world go by through the window. Maybe he'd ask Finn for advice about boys when they got home.


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine had stayed behind after school for yet another Warbler rehearsal. He'd wanted to properly say goodbye to Kurt, but he hadn't had time. Now, he was sitting in a central sofa next to Trent while Wes – being on the Warbler council – was leaning on the main table giving them a pep talk. There had been too many to count on his fingers, Blaine thought wearily. They'd been rehearsing like crazy for months, and he'd been singing 'Hey, Soul Sister' like there was no tomorrow. His primary fear was losing his voice right before Sectionals if he had to sing it much more.

"Blaine?" He looked up at Wes. "Is Kurt good to audition?"

Blaine thought back to that morning and glanced over at the piano, smiling. "Definitely," he responded.

Wes nodded, pleased. "Great. Well, I think we'll all agree that Kurt should audition next week, so after Sectionals –"

"What?" Blaine stared at his friend. "After Sectionals?"

Wes shrugged and raised his eyebrows. "Blaine, Kurt's hardly going to learn the part and the choreography in a week, plus he's gonna have a hell of a lot of catch-up work, and he's presumably still stressed from moving school..." He sighed, and looked around at the other Warblers for support. "It just makes more sense for him to wait until the big competition's over and we're not all so... stressed."

There were murmurings of agreement from around the room. Blaine looked indignantly at Trent, who was nodding a little. "Sorry, Blaine, it just... it does."

Blaine knew he was overreacting, but he knew how much Kurt wanted to be in the Warblers (despite how casual he tried to act about it) and besides, missing Sectionals wasn't worth anything.

"What if he could do it?" Blaine asked quietly, his mind racing. "If he could learn everything – let him audition, like, tomorrow morning, you'll see you good he is – and I taught him the choreography and the parts. Come on, Wes, please."

Wes raised his eyebrows even high. Why was Blaine so intent on the happening...? He sighed in surrender. "Warblers!" he called. "All in favour of letting Hummel audition tomorrow morning, on the agreement that Blaine gets him ready for Sectionals...?"

Blaine's hand shot up immediately, and he looked around. Trent smiled at Blaine and raised his hand. A few more Warblers were lifting their arms, but others kept them down. Blaine tried to do a mental calculation. They didn't need everyone, just the majority...

David was counting, pointing at each Warbler and mouthing the numbers. When he was done, he turned to Wes and nodded.

Blaine grinned. Wes took a breath and said, "okay, everyone. Kurt Hummel will audition for the Warblers tomorrow. Blaine, you'll let him know..." He continued talking, moving from the subject swiftly into another.

Blaine felt a vibration in his pocket, and pulled out his phone. A text from Kurt had set it off.

_How's the Warbler meeting going?_

He tried to surreptitiously text back (strictly speaking, they weren't supposed to use their phones during meetings).

_Good. Pulled some strings. You audition tomorrow morning. Break a leg :)_


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt stared in horror at his phone, thinking that Blaine had surely gone mad. Audition tomorrow? But he had no time to prepare! Luckily, he had no homework in for tomorrow, but even so, he needed some help. He closed the text from Blaine and pulled up Rachel and Mercedes' numbers.

An hour later, the three of them were sitting on Kurt's bed. When Rachel had first arrived, Finn had knocked on Kurt's door and asked what they were doing, but Rachel had explained that it was a show choir emergency, and that, even though Finn was excellent company, he wasn't going to help so please go away.

To Kurt's surprise, though, they weren't really focusing on his audition and more on Blaine.

"What does 'Pulled some strings' mean?" Rachel was asking frustratedly, staring at the text on Kurt's mobile.

"I don't know, Rachel," Kurt said through a mouthful of pizza.

Mercedes reached for another slice. "Well, you said he sings lead, right? So he'll have some influence over the decisions."

Rachel gasped, looking at Kurt. "They didn't want you in Sectionals!"

He almost choked. "What?"

"Think about it!" Rachel's game face was on, and she moved to face Kurt straight on. "You've just transferred; they don't know what you sound like. We're a week from Sectionals – it's hardly a big leap to work out – and frankly I can see you'd seem a liability."

"Wow. Thanks, Rachel." Kurt raised an eyebrow, and put down his pizza, rubbing his hands together to rid them of grease. He took his phone back and looked again:

_Good. Pulled some strings. You audition tomorrow morning. Break a leg :)_

"But then... why would Blaine try so hard to get you in?" Mercedes asked thoughtfully. "I mean, no offence, Kurt, but Rachel sort of has a point."

Kurt, who had flushed bright red, quickly closed the empty pizza box and got up to throw it in the bin. "Well, that's not the point!" he said loudly. "The question is... what do I sing tomorrow for my audition?"

There was a pause. Rachel immediately pulled out her iPod and started scrolling through songs. Mercedes looked at Kurt and smiled.

After a few minutes of Rachel commenting on various songs: "No... too long... too short... boring... too sad... duet... not for your range" (at which Kurt gave a derisive snort), she stopped and looked up. "I think I've got it," she beamed, pressing play.

Kurt looked up as the track started. "Ah," he said, standing up.

Did that really just happen?

Have I actually understood

This weird quirk I try to suppress or hide

Is a talent that could

Help me meet the wizard?

If I make good.

So I'll make good...


	8. Chapter 8

Blaine had again met Kurt early outside school and led him through to the Warblers' hall, but Wes, David, and the other council members had shooed him out the room before Kurt had begun singing. He'd smiled supportively at his friend, who was looking terror-stricken, before the door slammed shut in his face.

When Trent walked by to see how it was going, Blaine had his ear pressed firmly against the door. "What are you doing?" Trent asked curiously.

Blaine waved at him to be quiet. The door was hardly letting any sound through and he could only just hear Kurt's voice.

Unlimited

My future is unlimited

And I've just had a vision almost like a prophecy

I know

It sounds truly crazy

And, true, the vision's hazy,

But I swear someday there'll be

A celebration throughout Oz

That's all to do with me!

And I'll stand there with the wizard

Feeling things I've never felt

And though I'll never show it

I'll be so happy I could melt

And so it'll be for the rest of my life

And I'll want nothing else til I die

Blaine realised he was holding his breath and his chest felt tight. He exhaled, but didn't feel any different.

Held in such high esteem

When people see me they will scream

For half of Oz's favourite team

The wizard and I!

It was impressive, how long Kurt held the note for. Blaine could imagine Wes: "thank you, Kurt. We'll let you know," and sighed, turning to Trent.

"He's good." Trent nodded at the door. "Well, the end was good..."

"It was all good," Blaine agreed, straightening up and doing up his blazer button. "They can't not let him in after that."

The door opened and Kurt stepped out, looking fragile. The Warbler council smiled, acknowledging Trent and Blaine, before shutting the door again, presumably to discuss Kurt's performance.

Blaine moved immediately to Kurt and hugged him tightly. Kurt rested his head on Blaine's shoulder.

"You sounded amazing," Blaine said, and Trent "mm-hmm"ed enthusiastically, feeling a bit of a third wheel.

"You're damn right," laughed Kurt nervously. "I hope they thought so, too."

"They must have done." Kurt looked p at Blaine and Blaine smiled down at him. "Come on." The two joined hands and started walking towards home room (Kurt having been placed in the same one as Blaine), with Trent hurrying to catch up.

"You were listening?" Kurt asked after a moment.

Blaine frowned at him before smiling. "Of course I was."

And Blaine was not the slightest bit surprised at the Warbler meeting later, when the door was thrown open to reveal Kurt standing, smiling awkwardly, in the doorway.

"Everyone, meet our newest Warbler: Kurt Hummel!" He was met with the smatter of applause, and Blaine clapped the hardest.


	9. Chapter 9

The change between the New Directions and the Warblers was obvious now: it had been different watching them perform, but there was clearly a hierarchy.

And I'm at the bottom of it, Kurt thought glumly. After his initial welcome to group, he could see that the council held nearly all the power, and Blaine had the rest. Worst of all was that no-one seemed to realise. Back at McKinley, if someone felt ignored, they'd start a fight or sing something angry or storm out, but here... everyone just accepted it. It was going to take a while to get used to.

But he'd got a chance at a solo. It was clear that, despite their disapproval at his suggestions, they were prepared to award contributions. Maybe he had been a little hasty with the set list suggestions; after all, they already had the parts and choreography for 'Hey, Soul Sister' down.

"Kurt! There you are." Kurt looked up and smiled as Blaine came to join him on the bench. He'd been sitting in the memorial garden for half an hour. "Where were you at lunch?"

"I wasn't hungry." Kurt turned to Blaine. "Two auditions in as many days... has to be some kind of record, right?"

Blaine nodded, and said, "ah."

"Ah?" Kurt raised an eyebrow expectantly.

An arm around his shoulders, warm in the cool air. "Well, you've only just got into the Warblers, and you're nervous about singing in front of everyone. Not to mention that if you get solo, you'll personally be going up against your old school. And I could tell you that you and the council weren't exactly... seeing eye to eye." Blaine looked Kurt in the eyes, and Kurt's heart fluttered. "But it'll be fine," he assured him. "Because you're a Warbler now: Warblers, however much it may not seem like it, look out for their own."

Kurt had got distracted by Blaine mouth as he talked, but he blinked and reshuffled in his seat. "Good to know." He pondered about asking Blaine's advice on song choice for his audition, but decided against it. "So, do I have any competition for tomorrow?" he asked eventually, risking leaning his head on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine didn't seem to mind. "Jeff's auditioning," he responded. Not knowing Jeff, Kurt just nodded. "And... Nick, I think." Kurt felt Blaine's jaw as he leaned on Kurt's head, and felt his own heart racing. Could Blaine really be seeing this as platonic? Or was he just trying to be some support for Kurt? He tried to put the thoughts out of his head and just enjoy the moment while it lasted.


	10. Chapter 10

They were sitting on their bench in the memorial garden again, the wind whistling past them, playing on their faces, but Blaine barely noticed. He knew that his hand, resting on Kurt's shoulder, should be cold, but all he felt was the soft material of the coat underneath it. He could feel the weight of Kurt's head on his shoulder, smell his hair as his own head rested against it.

"Kurt –" he began, feeling his stomach twist nervously. Upon hearing his name, Kurt looked up. Blaine thought his eyes looked too big, too bright, as they glittered in the winter daylight.

Blaine felt sure they talking – about what, he couldn't remember. It felt as though no time passing, that they could just stay, looking into each other's eyes, forever...

He dipped his head, feeling his forehead meet Kurt's and hearing Kurt's sharp inhalation. "Blaine..."

Blaine brought his left hand round to touch Kurt's cheek, tracing carefully across it with his thumb, until it reached the corner of Kurt's lip.

A pause. Frozen.

And then Kurt tilted his chin up, lightly bringing up a band to touch the back of Blaine's neck. Blaine felt it there, a moment before he felt his lips meet Kurt's.

Fireworks.

Blaine's heart was running circles round his brain, he lost all sense of time, wanting nothing more than for Kurt to stay right where he was, kissing him, and him kissing back –

Blaine's eyes snapped open, the alarm clock next to his bed screeching at him. Half asleep-he turned it off, pressing his head back into the pillow and willing his dream to come back. But it was no use: the harder he tried to go back to sleep, the further the dream slipped away, and soon the details were hazy. Blaine did remember, though, the feeling of Kurt's lips on his.

It had felt wonderful.

Blaine was breathless; he could hear his heartbeat in his ears and sat up to clear his head, which was still fuzzy and completely distracted by his dream. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, leaning on the wall behind him. In the end, Blaine got up and decided to start getting ready for school.

But he couldn't stop thinking about the dream. It bothered him all day, and other students noticed his inattentiveness : "Blaine, you okay? You look tired," to which Blaine would mumble something about being fine and fiddle with his tie.

By the time of the Warblers rehearsal (and the Sectionals auditions), Blaine had nearly shaken the dream from his mind and went to see the potential soloists, who were waiting outside the Warblers hall.

Kurt stood up when he saw Blaine, walking swiftly over to him. "How many people are there in there?" he asked quietly, wide-eyed and nervous. He reminded Blaine of Bambi.

Blaine smiled, aware of Kurt's face being inches from his own. "All the Warblers are int here," he replied slowly.

Kurt inhaled, trying to calm down. "Okay," he said in between breaths.

"You okay?" Blaine backed away from his friend, giving him some air – and being absolutely nothing, he assured himself, with the sudden and overwhelming desire he had to kiss him.

"Completely," Kurt smiled anxiously.

Blaine glanced to the two other Warblers sitting by the wall, having a quiet conversation. "Well, I've gotta go in," he said, gesturing at the door, "but good luck!" He pulled Kurt close and hugged him, but then thought it was maybe too weird, so took a step back and looked at him, reading his face.

"What?" Kurt asked.

Blaine took a breath, but paused. "Nothing," he mumbled, opening the door. "Nothing..."

Kurt's audition, Blaine decided, was breathtaking. All through the performance, he could barely stop looking at Kurt, and nearly forgot to clap afterwards, he was so transfixed. It was cute how hard Kurt tried, and all in all it didn't help Blaine get over his dream. Afterwards, though, the Warbler council decided that, although it was a good effort, Kurt should really get a chance to properly slot into the group as a backing performer before any big solos, and Blaine felt awful telling Kurt the bad news.


	11. Chapter 11

"They didn't give you a solo?" Mercedes all but screamed down the phone. "Hell to the nawh, that is ridiculous –"

Kurt nodded, despite the fact that Mercedes couldn't see him. "I just, I don't know – I felt like it'd be different with no Rachel there to steal my limelight, but I'm still the bottom of the heap." He was sitting in his pyjamas and dressing gown with a mug of cocoa and a sharing bar of Galaxy chocolate. "And then Blaine? 'Don't try so hard'? What else was I going to do?" He paused, sniffing dramatically. "It was so... humiliating..."

"Awh, come on," Mercedes said supportively. "They must've all seen that you blew everyone else out the water – they're probably just trying to see how you cope with a no."

"You think?" Kurt sobbed, through a mouthful of caramel.

"Of course." Kurt could feel Mercedes' smile. There was a pause. "Are you sure this isn't about anything else?"

"What do you mean?" Kurt pouted.

"You just seem a bit... highly strung," Mercedes explained carefully. "Is this about Blaine somehow?"

Kurt swallowed, sighing. "We're just friends, Mercedes. And he probably thinks I'm completely ridiculous after today."

"Don't be silly," Mercedes retorted. "But okay, fine. You're just friend. I dunno, just... if you like him –"

"Mercedes!"

" – just try and find out what he thinks, that's all," she continued. "You don't want to find out too late that he liked you all along."

"Yeah," Kurt sniffed. "Right."


	12. Chapter 12

The next day at school was surprisingly tense. Kurt had spoken very little, but Blaine was overwhelmingly aware of everything that he did and started overanalysing all of his own actions. What was the appropriate distance to sit from Kurt? What facial expression was he pulling right now? How long was it deemed acceptable to look Kurt straight in the eyes?

At lunch, rather than their (somewhat) regular habit of going to cafeteria or the memorial garden, Blaine headed to the Warblers' hall. He needed some time to think things through, and was fairly sure that – despite Wes' meticulous rehearsal schedule – the council wasn't quite prepared to demand people's lunch break.

Blaine pushed the door open, standing in the half-light coming from a semi-open curtain. Feeling that his need for clarity required it, he threw open the rest of the curtain (and windows for good measure) before carefully snapping the door shut and taking a deep breath.

No-one would be outside in this weather: the news had predicted snow, but it was only grey and freezing cold. The incoming wind wrapped itself round Blaine and gave him goosebumps, but he felt alert.

After a moment, he walked slowly to the piano and sat down, looking slowly over the keys and resting his hands on the carefully. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, and then realised he had no idea what to play. Blaine paused, frowning and feeling cheated. He'd always known what to sing before – it was what he prided himself on above anything else, even if he wouldn't admit it – and he felt the need for music, but he couldn't bring himself to play anything.

I guess there aren't any songs called 'I might have a thing for my friend but I'm not sure and I have no idea whether or not he likes me back because I am awful at interpreting signals and don't want to ruin my friendship with him', Blaine thought disappointedly. He allowed his fingers to press down on the keys, but felt even more uninspired than before. Groaning, he rested his forehead on the piano keys and heard the painful discord.

"Blaine?"

Blaine paused. He'd been so distracted that he hadn't recognised the voice calling his name. He raised his head slowly.

Trent was leaning in through the window. He smiled nervously when he saw Blaine. "Are you –?" he began, before falling through the open window into the room. Blaine instinctively rushed over to his friend and helped him up. "Thanks," Trent nodded sheepishly. He brushed himself down and looked at Blaine again. "Are you alright?"

Blaine tried a smile and shrug. "Course," he responded quickly, moving back to the piano. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Trent frowned. "Well, Kurt says you've been acting a bit weird and, frankly, I panicked." He raised his eyebrows apologetically, before asking, "why are you sitting in here in the dark?"

It was true: despite letting in as much daylight as possible, the layout of the room meant it was still quite dark. Blaine laughed nervously, trying to think of a viable reason. "I just... wanted somewhere to think," he explained eventually.

"Nervous for Sectionals?" Trent asked knowingly, to which Blaine shrugged. "I get that, Blaine." He nodded. "But you promised you'd teach Kurt his part – and the choreography –"

"There really isn't that much choreography –"

" – and I'm just saying, maybe try to keep focus." Trent shrugged, and walked to the door. "If I see Kurt, I'll let him know you're in here," he said finally, before leaving Blaine in the dark silence.

He sat back down on the seat. This hadn't been what he'd meant to happen at all. "Kurt says you've been acting weird..." he frowned, stroking his hand along the wood of the piano contemplatively. He needed to get out of his own head; it was throwing him off. And, although, he wasn't sure he could make sense of his feelings, surely he could just try to put them out of his mind? Yes, he decided. That was the best thing to try to do.

Blaine wasn't really sure whether he was trying to 'move on', but it did help clear his mind. Maybe it was partially his nerves about Sectionals getting the better of him, he thought. He smiled, proud of himself, and began to play the first melody that came into his head.

You would not believe your eyes

If ten million fireflies

Lit up the world as I fell asleep.

Cos they'd fill the open air

And leave teardrops everywhere

You'd think me rude but I would just stand and stare.

Blaine grinned, letting the rhythm of the music wash over him and feeling the beat in his bones. He took a great breath and began to belt the song at the top of his lungs.

I'd like to make myself believe

That planet Earth turns slowly

It's hard to say that I'd rather stay

Awake when I'm asleep

Cos everything is never as it seems

When I fall asleep.

He was feeling one hell of a lot better. There was something about the magic of singing that always lifted his spirits, and he let it take him now as he continued.

Cos I'd get a thousand hugs

From ten thousand lightning bugs

As they tried to teach me how to dance.

A foxtrot above head

A sock hop beneath my bed

A disco ball that's just hanging by a thread.

There was a quick knock on the door, bringing Blaine unwillingly back to reality. It opened to reveal Kurt, hovering uncertainly. Blaine remembered his promise to himself and smiled, motioning for Kurt to come in. Kurt looked relieved. "You missed your cue," he said softly, nodding at the piano.

Blaine shrugged and continued to play. "I'll just wait til the next one," he said lightly, swallowing back the tide of feelings he could sense were brewing in his stomach. He forced another smile. "Care to join?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'well, if you insist...' and leaned on the side of the piano, looking at Blaine.

Leave my door open just a crack _(Please take me away from here)_

Cos I feel like such an insomniac _(Please take me away from here)_

Why do I tire of counting sheep _(Please take me away from here)_

When I'm far too tired to fall asleep?

The two boys made eye contact for a moment, before Blaine hastily looked back down at the piano. His playing faltered for a second.

To ten million fireflies

I'm weird cos I hate goodbyes

I got misty eyes as they said farewell

But I'll know where several are

If my dreams get real bizarre

Cos I saved a few and I keep them in a jar.

Kurt grabbed Blaine's hands, stopping him playing. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, eyes wide with concern

Blaine frowned, confused, but didn't answer.

"Because I know you keep saying you're fine, but you seem... different." Kurt was maintaining eye contact with him and Blaine was growing more comfortable looking at him.

Blaine paused for a moment, considering his answer. "I hope you'll appreciate, Kurt," he said finally, "that there are some things I can't tell you. That I can't tell anyone. And I hope that you'll let me just... muddle this through on my own."

Kurt nodded, seemed to understand. "Well, I'm always here if you need me to be." He smiled, and leaned down to hug Blaine. It was a long hug with both boys holding tightly.

When they released each other, Kurt smiled. "I actually came in here to ask about my part for Sectionals...?"

"Oh, yeah, of course!" Blaine shook himself and walked over to the bookshelf to find the music. "Let's get started."


	13. Chapter 13

Kurt knew that there was something Blaine wasn't telling him, but felt content enough that the other boy had just told him that, rather than lying to create a terrible spiral of lies like he saw every week on TV. And, however, much he wanted to know all Blaine's secrets, he respected his privacy and decided not to press the subject.

Besides, all of his spare time had been commanded by the Warblers and their endless Sectionals rehearsals; he felt like he was being tested, and tried his hardest to keep up – which he felt he did admirably. He and Blaine spent their lunchtimes in the Warblers' hall, going over choreography again and again and singing until their throats hurt. Kurt's evenings had also been lost: when he wasn't working through his stack of homework, he was catching up with Mercedes or discussing Broadway musicals with Rachel.

Sectionals was creeping up on everyone very quickly, and Rachel was still furious at her lack of a solo.

"To be fair, Rachel," Kurt argued for the umpteenth time down the phone, "you do always get the solo."

"Because I always deserve it!" Rachel retorted. "And no offence to Quinn, but do you really think she's going to carry us to victory?" She paused. "I mean... the New Directions."

It still pained Kurt to be away from McKinley, and he smiled sadly. "Well, good to know you think the Warblers are going to beat you," he teased. The clock caught his eye. "Oh – I've got to go," he said quickly. "I can't get behind on my moisturising regimen the day before Sectionals."

Rachel laughed. "Okay, Kurt. See you tomorrow."

Kurt goodnight to his dad, Finn and Carole, and headed upstairs to bed.

But the morning brought with it pre-performance butterflies and Kurt found himself dreading the evening. Even though, he thought, I'm much better rehearsed than we were for last year's Sectionals. He didn't feel in sync with the Warblers, he realised. He hadn't quite come to accept that it was his new home and he didn't feel confident.

It kept him on edge all day. Surprisingly, there were no rehearsals scheduled for today (the idea being to relax) which didn't help Kurt feel any better.

"Kurt, you're white as a sheet," Blaine noticed when the two met at lunch. "Do you need to go to the nurse?"

Kurt took a breath and shook his head. "I think I'm just nervous," he replied, but he did feel a bit ill when he came to think of it.

Blaine clapped a hand round Kurt's shoulder in a friendly fashion. "You should eat something," he advised. Kurt nodded and let himself be led to the cafeteria.

By the time the Warblers arrived for Sectionals, Kurt had to admit he felt better. Being part of a choir, despite the fact that the Warblers weren't yet aware enough of his outstanding talent, was nice and it gave him a chance to see all his McKinley friends.


	14. Chapter 14

Blaine found Kurt talking to a short girl he didn't recognise, but a moment later his hunch that it was the famous Rachel Berry was verified. Unfortunately, he had arrived to drag Kurt away so that they could take their seats in the audience for the Hipsters' performance.

"You know, I thought they'd be a lot worse," Kurt whispered to him halfway through.

Blaine almost laughed. "What, because they're old?" he murmured back.

"Partially," Kurt admitted. "But also because there's normally a shambolic performance, and I know it's not us or the New Directions."

"You said Rachel wasn't soloing," Blaine suggested. "Maybe theirs will be the shambolic one."

That shut Kurt up, although it hadn't especially meant to. Blaine supposed he couldn't imagine his friends falling at the first hurdle, but similarly didn't to himself. Against his better judgement, Blaine reached over and squeezed Kurt's hand. "Stop worrying!" he said quietly, looking at Kurt's anxious expression. Blaine saw Kurt look down at their hands, and he withdrew his hand quickly, fidgeting. You crossed the line, Blaine, he scolded himself.

When the Hipsters' performance was nearing its end, the Warblers began to file out to prepare for their performance. Wes grouped them outside the door.

"Okay, guys," he said. "We all know how hard we've worked for this, so let's just go out there and rock that stage." He grinned. "Break a leg, everybody!"

Blaine was offered "good luck"s from various other Warblers, and Kurt beamed at him as they took up their positions onstage. Blaine smiled back, before the lights came up and he took a breath.

The song seemed over almost straight after it started, and all of a sudden they were leaving and resuming their seats. Everyone seemed determined to clap Blaine on the back except Kurt, who mouth "well done" in the silence and smiled at him.

Then the lights came up onstage, and Blaine learned what Kurt had loved about the New Directions – they seemed to much freer than the Warblers – and got so caught up in the atmosphere that he found himself clapping along to the dark-haired girl's 'Valerie' without even realising. At the end of the song, he and Kurt leapt up and cheered louder than the rest of the Warblers put together.

"I can see why they were the favourites to win," Blaine said to Kurt during the interval. Kurt didn't seem to be listening. Blaine nudged him and he looked up. "Kurt?"

"Yeah. Sorry." Kurt yawned, covering his mouth with a hand.

"Are you feeling okay?" It could have been the lighting, but Kurt did look dangerously pale, just like he'd done earlier at lunch.

Kurt nodded distractedly. "Of course," he responded quietly.

But he looked like he was going to throw up. Blaine put his arm round Kurt, hugging the boy closer to him and rubbing his arm supportively.

By the end of the night, Blaine was genuinely afraid that Kurt might faint. He'd made it through the announcement that both Dalton and McKinley were winners, and had even managed to hug Mercedes while Blaine congratulated Mr Schuester, but Blaine could see he was shivering.

"I'm gonna call a cab," he told Kurt while they were preparing to leave. "I should see you home."

Kurt looked at him and Blaine could see that his eyes were red. "What? You don't have to do that," he insisted, leaning on the wall subtly in order to keep upright.

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "I was gonna get one anyway," he said. "We can just go round via yours."

Blaine had never seen Kurt's house before, and was a little excited despite the circumstances. The two boys sat next to each other in the taxi (Blaine having helped Kurt in) in silence, but Blaine could tell that the last thing Kurt needed in his current state was a conversation.

The taxi ride was longer than Blaine expected, and he was starting to feel tired with the rocking motion of the car and the stress of the week. He glanced over at Kurt, who was valiantly trying to stay awake. Smiling a little, Blaine put his arm round Kurt again, allowing the other boy to rest his head on Blaine's shoulder. He was reminded of his dream, and looked out the window awkwardly, but kept Kurt close.

By the time they pulled up outside Kurt's house, Kurt was snoozing peacefully on Blaine's shoulder, and Blaine felt bad shaking him awake. "Can you wait here a minute?" he asked the driver, who nodded understandingly. Blaine climbed out of the cab and hurried round to Kurt's side, opening the door and resting Kurt's arm around his neck before helping him out. Together, they made their way to Kurt's front door and Blaine rang the doorbell.

Kurt mumbled something about Blaine not having to do this, to which Blaine laughed dryly and said, "of course I do."

A tall young man with brown hair answered the door. "Hi – oh my gosh, Kurt!" he exclaimed, looking at Blaine expectantly.

Blaine smiled awkwardly. "You must be Finn," he said. "I'm Blaine." Finn began helping Blaine to carry Kurt inside, laying him carefully on a sofa. "He's been looking peaky all day – as far as I'm aware, it's nothing he ate," Blaine summarised. "But I thought he needed seeing home." His eyes lingered on Kurt's now sleeping form for a moment.

Finn nodded carefully. "Okay. Well, thanks," he replied. "I guess I owe you one."

Blaine smiled. "Um, I've got a cab waiting," he remembered. "I'd better go."

Finn walked him back to the door. "Hey, dude," he said quietly to Blaine. "You and Kurt, are you, um...?"

"Just friends," Blaine nodded.

Finn took that in. "Okay. But are you, though, are you...?"

"Gay? Yeah," Blaine answered, reading Finn's expression.

"Right. Cool. Well, not cool. I mean, not not cool, but –"

Blaine nodded again and Finn stopped talking.

"Well done at Sectionals. You were great," Finn said finally.

"Yeah, thanks, so were you." Blaine smiled warmly and headed out the door. "See you around."

"Yes. Bye." Finn closed the door, and Blaine walked back to his taxi.


	15. Chapter 15

Kurt didn't really remember getting home. It was all a haze after getting into the cab with Blaine, and thinking made his head spin despite the fact that he was lying down. He opened his eyes, squinting against the light that seemed way too bright for eyes. He was in his bed, looking up the ceiling. After a moment, he realised that he was still in his uniform from Sectionals the night before, minus his blazer, shoes and tie, and would have been disgusted with himself if he hadn't felt so ill. His nose was blocked (forcing him to breathe most ungracefully through his mouth) and he could feel a cold sweat on his forehead. He felt hot and thought he'd feel better if he threw up. Kurt closed his eyes and groaned – but it came out scratchy and weak, and made him feel worse.

He heard the door open and close and knew it was his dad. "Hey, Kurt," he said, crouching down next to the bed in order to be level with his son. "Blaine's at the door."

Kurt nearly sat up in surprise. "What time is it?" he croaked.

"Just after one-thirty," his dad responded.

Was it Saturday? Kurt's head ached too much to know, but he forced himself to think. Blaine. At the door.

"Don't let Blaine up," he mumbled. "I'm a mess."

"Not much more than last night when he brought you home from Sectionals," Burt commented.

Kurt sighed and it came out wheezy. "Tell Blaine... thanks," he said eventually.

He heard Burt leave and leaned further into his pillow, drifting off to sleep, when the door opened again.

Kurt was too tired and ill to give it much thought until he felt a hand in his.

"Hey, Kurt," came Blaine's voice; he was speaking softly so as not to overwhelm Kurt's sinuses.

Kurt cracked open an eye. "I told my dad not to let you up," he half-smiled.

"I know." Blaine perched on the edge of the bed, holding Kurt's hand lightly in his own. Kurt could feel it, cool against his burning, skin, and smiled a little. He grabbed into Blaine's hand and held it tight.

The two boys sat in silence for a few minutes, save Kurt's occasional coughs, and Blaine looked at Kurt. He really did look terrible, and Blaine could tell that he was feverish.

"I don't know... how I caught it," Kurt murmured sleepily.

Blaine paused before speaking, distracted by Kurt's uncomfortable frown. "New school, the winter, there's any number of reasons," he said.

Kurt said, "mmm," and altered his position so he was leaning on his side, facing Blaine, but his eyes were shut. The change of the light on Kurt's face made a huge difference; he now looked somehow pale and pink at once. Blaine almost laughed at how dismayed Kurt would be by this if he were able to be.

After a few more minutes, Blaine realised that Kurt had once again fallen asleep, his hand firmly clasping Blaine's. Blaine sighed and rolled his eyes good-naturedly, before leaning on Kurt's pillow next to him.

It didn't feel weird, being inches from Kurt. In fact, it was more than that, it felt... right, somehow. Blaine smiled. Although, he supposed, maybe watching him sleep is a bit creepy. He sat up abruptly, and made to leave, unlinking his fingers from Kurt's. After a moment of consideration, Blaine decided to ignore his common sense: he turned back to Kurt, leant over him, and kissed him on the cheek. Kurt's burning hot skin sent a warmth through Blaine, and he smiled again before heading out the door.

Tomorrow, he promised himself. I'll get over him tomorrow.


	16. Chapter 16

Kurt had had a very odd dream. He must've fallen asleep while Blaine was still there because he didn't remember him leaving, but in his dream Blaine had kissed him on the cheek. Kurt recalled it with a smile. It had felt so real, he could practically still feel the tingle on his face. Smiling, he pushed himself up and leant back on the pillows, feeling a great deal better. The clock told him it was half past eight and it was dark outside, but having slept all day Kurt was fairly awake, and pushed the covers off himself only to immediately pull them back in the unprecedented cold.

A knock on the door. "Hello," Kurt called, glad that his voice was starting to sound like his own again.

It was Carole. She walked over to the bed, resting a glass of water on the side table. "Hey, Kurt," she smiled. "How're you feeling?"

Kurt shrugged and pulled a face. "Better," he responded. "Still not amazing."

Carole nodded understandingly. "Well, have a drink," she advised, motioning towards the water. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

Kurt grimaced. He hated being so feeble; it was embarrassing. "I need to be better," he groaned.

Laughing a little, Carole left, closing the door quietly behind her.


	17. Chapter 17

Kurt was back at school on Monday, but Blaine noticed that he still looked peaky. It was force of habit after so many morning Warbler rehearsals that Blaine arrived at school unreasonably early, and when he saw Kurt wander into home room, he was immediately up and at his side. Btu just as a friend, he reminded himself reluctantly as he rested an arm around Kurt's shoulder.

"How're you holding up?" Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged. "Dad thought that I should stay home for another day but I didn't want to miss any more work – I've got enough to catch up on as it is."

Blaine nodded sympathetically, sitting back down in his seat. Kurt sat at the desk next to him, leaning his chin in his hand.

"Kurt!" Wes had just arrived with David. "Blaine said you were, you okay?" At Kurt's half-hearted response, he continued, "there's a Warbler rehearsal after school, but don't feel like you have to come – you need to recuperate."

"And well done for pressing through it at Sectionals," David added. "You were great – Regionals, here we come!"

Kurt smiled politely. "Thanks, guys," he said. "And of course I'm coming, Wes. Provided I'm not going to have to sing anything."

The two other boys laughed and took their seats, but Blaine took a sideways glance at Kurt. Had that been some passive aggressive comment about not getting a solo? He dismissed the thought; he could sort of see where Kurt was coming from with that anyway, and being congested made him sound sarcastic regardless of whether he meant to be or not.

As part of his new Get-Over-Kurt plan, Blaine had been trying to avoid thinking about the memorial garden, so he felt somewhat betrayed when Kurt suggested that they go there at lunch. Having no counter-proposal, though, he found himself sitting next to Kurt on "their" bench (as accidentally christened by Trent) after they'd eaten.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? It's really cold today," Blaine worried, his breath misting around his mouth, before being brushed away by the breeze.

Kurt sighed, exasperated. "Blaine, I'm fine," he assured his friend. "All you've been doing all day is asking me how I am."

"Well, I'm looking out for you," Blaine responded casually, staring at the tree standing in front of them.

There was a pause. Blaine fidgeted with his gloves.

"Why did you come to visit me?" Kurt asked eventually. "I mean, thanks, but...?"

Blaine smiled, raising an eyebrow. "You're welcome," he said, laughing a little. "Well..." He wasn't quite sure what to say. "Like I said, I'm looking out for you."

That seemed to answer Kurt's question to an acceptable degree, and the two boys sat once again in silence.

"It's just that I looked horrendous," Kurt explained eventually, and Blaine laughed.

"I knew you'd say that!"

Kurt shoved him playfully, and Blaine shoved him back, before standing up. "Come on," he said. "You're gonna freeze out here: let's go inside."

Kurt smiled at him and stood obediently, smoothing down his blazer. "Okay," he agreed, and walked with Blaine back to their home room.


	18. Chapter 18

The Warblers meeting was the most relaxed one Kurt had ever been in. He supposed with Sectionals not being a week away, no-one but Wes was panicking about anything. Kurt was sat on a sofa, awkwardly squished between Blaine and European-looking boy Blaine had introduced as Stefan. Next to Stefan was a short, skinny Warbler called Hugo, who, Kurt, learned, was a Freshman but only because he had been up a year. The four of them were chatting fairly amiably in spite of the fact that the sofa was made to seat two.

"So, Kurt," Huge asked after somehow producing a share bag of sweets from thin air and offering it round, "what made you transfer to Dalton?"

Kurt swallowed nervously, but Blaine same to his rescue. "The zero-tolerance," he answered smoothly.

Hugo nodded understandingly, biting a jelly ring off his finger. "It's a good policy," he agreed.

Kurt smiled, taking the gummy bear he was offered.

"It's great to have some new blood," Stefan grinned, patting Kurt on the shoulder. Kurt could tell he had a slight accent, but couldn't place it. "And your range is outstanding."

Kurt blushed and waved his hand humbly. He was steadily growing used to the comradery of the Warblers, rather than the desire to crush each other that the New Directions seemed to have. A whole week had gone by without someone getting slushied or yelled at or thrown in a dumpster and Kurt was definitely enjoying the respect that other students at Dalton automatically afforded him, regardless of his appearance or grade point average or sexuality. He was a Warbler, and that meant something here.

As the last few stragglers hurried into the room, Wes called the meeting to order.

"First off, everyone," he announced, "huge congratulations to you all for our brilliant performance at Sectionals!" He paused as the room was filled with cheers and whoops. "But," he continued, "we can be sure that the New Directions and Oral Intensity will be bringing their A-game for Regionals, so we've gotta be better! I know we can do it, guys, so let's all put in a hundred and ten per cent." Wes took a breath. "More imminently, though, Christmas is coming up." More applause. "The Warblers have been asked to perform at Dalton's annual Christmas fête once again, so let's start some brainstorming!"

There were murmurs of conversation around the room, and Kurt turned to Blaine. "What's the Christmas fête like?" he asked.

Blaine smiled at him enthusiastically. "It's basically a whole day of stalls run by students, but in the evening there's this talk and talent show thing, which the Warblers always host. I believe we pick two lead soloists to duet and do the talking...?" He looked to Stefan, who duly nodded in confirmation. "...and the other Warblers sing backing – sometimes for some of acts too," Blaine finished.

"I assume that you automatically get one of those leads," Kurt said.

Blaine shook his head. "No, no," he replied. "We audition, everyone's got an equal chance."

Kurt's heart leapt in hope. He could solo at the Christmas fête...? From the Warblers' enthusiasm it was clearly much more of a deal than McKinley's half-hearted attempt at holiday cheer.

Right on cue, Wes stood up from his seat where he was talking to David. "The sign-up sheet for solo auditions'll be here if anyone wants to... well, sign up," he announced, waving the sheet obviously and placing it down on the table.

Blaine made to stand. "I take it you're auditioning too," he said expectantly to Kurt.

The eye contact threw Kurt a little, but he coughed and got up too. "Of course," he nodded.

Both boys walked across the room and Blaine picked up the pen. "Who knows," he shrugged casually, "we could end up dueting."

Kurt took a breath, calming himself before he took pen off Blaine, signing his own name under Blaine's. "A Christmas duet," he mused, picturing the two of them belting out Mariah Carey with fake snow swirling around them, Blaine coming in close for the quiet end and leaning in to him – "That could be interesting," he spluttered, as nonchalantly as he could manage.

"Couldn't it just." Blaine was walking back to their sofa and Kurt hurried to catch up.

"So, Blaine, what Christmas songs do you like?" Kurt asked, smiling a greeting at Stefan and Hugo as they sat back down.

Blaine sighed. "I'm not a huge fan of Christmas songs," he admitted. When Kurt turned to him in horror, he held up his hands. "I like the idea of them, but they end up so overused and it gets boring," he explained. "I like trying to find ones that no-one's heard of."

That was a surprise: Blaine, a fan of indie Christmas songs? Kurt made a mental note to look for some when he got home.

"I love 'Last Christmas'," Hugo said enthusiastically through a mouthful of marshmallows. "It's like the best of break-up songs and Christmas!"

Kurt laughed and shook his head, but he was also trying to think: what could he sing for his audition?

After another few minutes of chatter, Wes stood up again. "Alright, let's hear some ideas! Now, yes, we have the classic Christmas songs, we have the hymns – although we'll debate that at a later date – but does anyone have anything else?"

Silence fell. Everyone looked a little confused.

A tall, dark-haired boy near Wes stood up, and addressed the group. "Like how the best Christmas movie is 'Love, Actually' because it's not solely focused around the fact that it's Christmas," he explained, and there were a couple of "oh"s. But no-one contributed.

"Well," Wes said, "that's what we're gonna try to go for this year, so if everyone tried to find a song like that then we should be sailing. Alright, everyone, meeting adjourned – go home, get some rest, we'll see you tomorrow! Thanks for your time."

The Warblers all began to move as Wes spun back around. "Wait!" he called. "Forgot to say – soloist auditions... well, since you'll be hosting as a duo, you can audition as a duet if you'd like. So feel free to pair up." Kurt glanced at Blaine, whose eyes flickered over to meet his. "Alright, that's actually it, see you tomorrow!" The movement restarted and the room began to empty.

Blaine and Kurt left together, wending their way through the corridors to the way out.

"So," Kurt started casually. "Duets, huh?"

Blaine looked at him and shrugged. "Yeah. Makes sense, I guess. You want a pair with chemistry."

Kurt blinked. "Yeah, no, definitely," he responded eventually, staring at the floor and hoping he wasn't going red. "It's a good idea."

"Yeah, it is."

"Do you think you want to do a duet for the audition?"

A pause. "Why, are you offering?" Blaine asked. Kurt couldn't tell if he was joking or not, and could only open and close his mouth uncertainly.

Blaine laughed and patted Kurt on the shoulder. "Because I can do the offering if you don't want to."

Kurt's stomach twisted in excitement. Blaine pushed open the door to the outside, motioning Kurt through first. The boys walked quickly to the gate and Kurt saw his father waiting for him in his car.

"Well...?" Blaine said.

Kurt looked up and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, sorry – yes that's be great," he replied, beaming.

"Great," Blaine beamed.

"But I wanna pick the song," Kurt added.

Blaine looked a bit disappointed, but shrugged and said, "okay."

There was a moment of silence, before Kurt said, "well, I'd better go," and pointed at his dad's car. Blaine nodded goodbye, but Kurt leant over and hugged him very quickly before hurrying over the Burt. "I'll see you tomorrow," he called back.

Blaine waved. "Bye, Kurt."

Burt asked Kurt how his day had gone as soon as Kurt sat down. "You still look pale, are you alright?"

Kurt smiled out the window at where Blaine was loitering. "I'm fine, Dad," he insisted. "I think I'm cured."

The next hour and a half of Kurt's life was spent trawling the Internet for indie Christmas songs, each one being worse than the last. No wonder no-one listens to them, Kurt thought in exasperation, clicking on yet another YouTube link.

His digital pleas for audition ideas had drawn blanks with Rachel and Mercedes and Kurt had just started wondering if good Christmas songs even existed when he heard it. An amazing Christmas song. He'd never heard of the artist before. He listening through the song, and then again to check it hadn't been a hallucination. He smiled.

Perfect.


	19. Chapter 19

Blaine had been confused when Kurt had asked to pick the song, but secretly glad. He – for the first time – was at a loss for ideas and hadn't needed the extra job. But he was surprised when Kurt bounded into home room the next day, triumphantly wielding a CD.

"I've found it!" he exclaimed, launching himself into the seat next to Blaine and practically flinging the disc at his face.

Blaine laughed uncertainly, taking the disc from Kurt and looking at it expectantly. "Found what?"

"A Christmas song!" Kurt replied, wild-eyed. "And I think you'll love it."

"Wow." Blaine examined the CD more closely; it was a rewritable one that obviously burned the song onto. "How long did it take you to find it?" Kurt didn't look like he'd got a lot of sleep last night.

Kurt waved away the question. "I'll show you it at first break if you like," he said enthusiastically.

Blaine smiled. "Great."

That seemed to settle Kurt down a bit, and the two friends sat in silence until the bell went and their teacher began to dismiss them to lessons.

"Where're you headed?" Blaine leaned over and whispered the question in Kurt's ear so as not to interrupt their teacher.

Kurt blinked at him. "English."

Blaine sighed internally – English was the other side of the school to where he needed to go. He took a breath. "Cool. I'll walk you."

No! Blaine's brain screamed at him. You've been late enough this last week; don't offer to walk him to English!

But his heart overrode the signal when Kurt looked up at him, his eyes big and full of magic. "Thanks."

It was all Blaine could do to smile in return, for fear of his voice giving up halfway through a sentence.

Kurt noticed a bug on his desk and the moment was broken. Blaine looked down at his feet, cursing himself for being so obvious. Stop it, he told himself. This isn't going to end well. And he could barely imagine his father's reaction if he brought Kurt home to meet him.

When everyone began to stand, Blaine grabbed his bag and waiting for Kurt to do the same.

"To English, then," Kurt smiled.

"To English," Blaine echoed.

Trent looked at Blaine in confusion when he turned right with Kurt. Blaine shot him a look that said, "you can walk to History on your own, you know" and then smiled apologetically, before putting his arm round Kurt and starting to talk.

"'Romeo and Juliet', huh?" he asked, catching sight of the book in Kurt's pocket.

Kurt nodded. "We're on the balcony scene."

"Ah," Blaine said. "'Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?'" He sighed. "That bit annoys me."

Kurt looked up at him in horror. "It's one of those classic moments in theatre as we know it! It's the most quoted line from any Shakespeare play!" At Blaine's raised eyebrow, he sheepishly added, "probably."

Blaine shrugged. "I just think that they each want something different. She wants to get married or whatever and he's just interested in getting in her pants."

Kurt gasped – a literal, shocked gasp.

"Just reread it," Blaine said, "and tell me that's not true."

They came to a stop outside Kurt's English classroom. "So, I'll meet you in the Warblers' hall at break?" Blaine clarified.

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, great."

Blaine hesitated for a moment before rubbing Kurt's arm in a friendly sort of way before murmuring a goodbye and heading off down the corridor.


	20. Chapter 20

Kurt was utterly distracted throughout English, paranoid about his Christmas duet song choice. Would Blaine like it? Had he heard it before? Kurt sighed, looking down at his copy of Romeo and Juliet. What do you know, he thought, Blaine had been right.

After handing in his half-hearted essay at the end of the lesson, Kurt grabbed his satchel and made his way to the Warblers' hall. In all honesty, he was proud of himself once he'd made it without getting lost. He peeked around the door to see the lights on and Blaine sitting on piano seat, the CD player on the top of the piano in front of him.

"Hey, you," Blaine called when he looked up and saw him. Kurt smiled and entered, shutting the door quietly behind him and making his way to the piano.

"Hi." Kurt reached into his blazer and pulled out the CD. He realised he was nervous.

Blaine was, however, his usual charming self. "So, what song's got you so excited?" He stood up and leant over the keys of the piano, looking at Kurt playfully.

Kurt swallowed and put the disc into the machine. "I think it meets everything we want it to," he said, stalling.

"Really?" Blaine raised an eyebrow. "So it's a Christmas song that's not about Christmas?"

"And I haven't heard of it before," Kurt added, before cursing himself. That just makes you sound desperate, Kurt. Don't tell him you found it just for him: that's borderline creepy.

Blaine, luckily, didn't seem to notice. "Well, then," he smiled, "let's hear it." He leant across Kurt to press play, their faces inches from each others'. Kurt coughed awkwardly and took a step back. He still wasn't sure how to respond to Blaine's more flirtatious actions, and whether or not he was just being friendly. But then the music started and Kurt quickly took a breath to come in on time.

He met her up in Delaware in 1937

She was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress

December 24th at a quarter to eleven's

When he finally gained the courage to ask her to dance.

Kurt opened his eyes, although he couldn't remember shutting them. Blaine was nodded in time to the music, looking impressed thus far. When their eyes met, both boys smiled, completely comfortable with each other in that moment.

It was the night before Christmas, it was love at first sight,

The carollers sang as they danced through the night,

She was a small-town girl, he was a travelling guy,

He never caught her name before they said their goodbyes.

"Do you know it?" Kurt asked.

Blaine shrugged. "I've heard it before, but I couldn't find it anywhere when I looked."

Kurt smiled sheepishly. "It did take a while to find."

When Kurt opened his mouth to continue singing, Blaine held up a hand.

A couple years, later, he was out on the road,

Having Christmas dinner in a diner, alone,

When he saw a young waitress with a gleam in her eye,

Her favourite day of the year, she showed her spirits were high,

She said, "Sir, could you spare a little holiday cheer?"

A simple Christmas story's all she wanted to hear.

He looked prepared with a smile as he started to say,

"Here's my favourite Christmas story 'bout a girl with no name."

Kurt joined back in, improvising a harmony with Blaine.

He said, "I met her up in Delaware in 1937

She was wearing red lipstick to match her pretty dress

December 24th at a quarter to eleven's

When I finally gained the courage to ask her to dance."

They were both not-quite dancing, swaying in time to the music and moving around the room, but maintaining a space between each other. Kurt lay back against the sofa, while Blaine sat on the arm of it and came in with "ooh"s.

By age 53, he had done, settled down,

All the neighbourhood kids liked to gather around

Just to listen to his stories 'bout his life on the road,

All he had now were these children he told.

And every Christmas Eve they showed up before dark,

He told them all the story but they knew it by heart,

They could quote it word-for-word, he always told it the same,

It was his favourite Christmas story called 'The Girl with No Name'.

Blaine offered Kurt a hand and pulled him to his feet. They sang the chorus again together, and then Kurt felt Blaine pull him closer for the next verse. Kurt came in with a few harmonies, not sure whether Blaine was invading his personal space in a friendly or romantic way.

20 years later, as he took his last breath,

On a cold Christmas morning in a hospital,

The children had grown, he had nobody left,

Except the little old nurse who was holding his hand.

He said, "Ma'am, could you share a little holiday cheer?"

A simple Christmas story's all he wanted to hear.

But his eyes filled with tears at the words she spoke,

Because his favourite Christmas story was the one that she told.

It was very quiet in the room. Kurt could feel Blaine close to him, and could see Blaine's eyes staring back into his. This has to be a moment, he thought, before opening to sing.

She said, "I met him up in Delaware in 1937

Though I never caught his name, he was travelling man

December 24th at a quarter to eleven's

I'm so glad he gained the courage to ask me to – "

The great oak door swung open, and Kurt and Blaine leapt apart at the speed of light, looking awkwardly at the door. Wes swept into the room carrying a huge pile of loose papers, muttering to himself. He didn't notice the two boys glaring in horror at his appearance until he'd made his way to the table, set down the papers, sorted them a little, and turned back around.

"Oh. Hey, guys," he said breezily, walking back to the door. He paused, turning back. "Actually – Blaine, could I have a word?"

Blaine glanced at Kurt. Kurt shrugged defeatedly. "Sure."

"Great." Wes looked pointedly at Kurt, and Kurt sighed, grabbed his bag and left, the door crashing shut in the silence.

Blaine rubbed his eyes and turned to Wes. "So, what is it?" he asked.

Wes, blissfully unaware of the tension, replied, "it's about the Christmas fête." When Blaine motioned for him to continue, he elaborated: "they want you to sing a duet."

Blaine frowned. "Who want me to sing what duet with whom?"

Wes sighed, as though that had already explained everything. "A load of girls from Crawford Country Day'll be at the fête," he said. "Couple of teachers from there and from here want to see us 'bond', so I've been asked if our resident lead soloist – " he motioned at Blaine " – would like to sing a duet with theirs."

"I didn't know they had a glee club," Blaine commented.

"Well, I don't know – jeez, Blaine, you are not focusing on the right bit at all!" Wes seemed stressed, and Blaine held up his hands in apology.

"Fine, sorry," he said. "What do they want me to sing?"

Wes walked to the door. "My understanding was that you'd decide between you. I think she's pretty keen on 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'."

Blaine nodded. "Okay. Thanks for letting me know."

"No problem, Blaine. Oh, and – would you tell Kurt? Auditions day after tomorrow."

"Sure."

Blaine left a little after Wes to go find Kurt, but the bell went for lessons and he sighed exasperatedly. He decided to text him instead.

_Love the song :) Wes says auditions on Thursday_

Blaine shouldered his rucksack, wondering what the girl from Crawford Country Day would be like. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long – the girl messaged him on Facebook that evening. Her name was Nicole Spiron. Her profile picture was her with a selection of other girls (at least Blaine assumed she was in the picture; he didn't know what she looked like).

_Nicole: hi there_

_Blaine: hello_

_Nicole: so i hear your my duet partner 4 xmas fair?_

Blaine shuddered. He didn't like her already.

_Blaine: apparently. I heard we're supposed to pick a song?_

_Nicole: bby its cold outside pls? ;)_

Luckily, Nicole was unaware of Blaine's eyeroll as he rested his forehead in his hand. To be honest, he quite liked 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' and didn't want a sour memory of it, but he had no better suggestions.

_Blaine: sure._

_Nicole: awsum! xox do u wanna meet up 2 reherse?_

No. No I don't.

_Blaine: yeah._

_Blaine: what about the weekend?_

_Nicole: friday nights gr8 4 me_

Not technically weekend, Blaine thought, but okay.

_Nicole: my parentsll be out so we can make as much noise as we want ;P_

That caused Blaine to pause. It almost certainly doesn't mean what I want it to mean, he sighed. But, quite frankly, he didn't have the willpower to continue to sustain the conversation and he was – in a way – looking forward to potentially rejecting her.

_Blaine: okay._

They organised to meet up outside her school after lessons; it being Dalton's sister school, Blaine knew roughly where it was well enough to find it on Google maps. Feeling physically drained by the end of the conversation, he decided to have an early night, but his phone buzzed with a text from Kurt.

_Want to come over tomorrow and rehearse it then?_

It was odd how twenty minutes earlier he was imagining stabbing the asker of that question (a quick browse of her Facebook profile had left him less than unimpressed) but now he found himself biting his lip to stop himself from smiling.

_Of course :)_

Blaine spent the next hour texting Kurt, talking about nothing. By the time he did finally go to bed, he was in a much better mood than he had been, and was, at least, looking forward to the next day.


	21. Chapter 21

Blaine looked tired when Kurt saw him the following morning. "Are you alright?" he asked, perching in the chair next to his friend and looking at him in concern.

"Yeah, of course," Blaine replied, sitting up and smiling.

"Up late?" Kurt folded his arms in a mock-overbearing-parent sort of way.

Blaine laughed hollowly. "Messaging someone with no grasp of how to spell."

Kurt wasn't sure whether to feel sympathetic or jealous, but went with the former. "That's never conducive to your sanity."

"Exactly." The morning bell went as more boy filed into the room. Trent sat down next to Blaine and greeted the two of them with a "good morning" and a smile. Blaine leant a little closer to Kurt, and said quickly, "Listen, can you meet me in the Warblers' hall at lunch? I need to ask you something."

Kurt's stomach twisted in anticipation as he nodded in response, and Blaine smiled before turning around to talk to Trent. What could Blaine want to ask him that would take longer than the length of first break? He had a sudden vision of a steamy make-out session on the sofa in the Warblers' hall, but shook his head quickly to clear it. Stop it, he scolded himself.

But he continued to daydream right up until the moment that he noticed Blaine standing up to leave and did likewise. Blaine was still talking about something, and Trent looked thoughtful.

"What's going on?" Kurt asked.

Blaine turned to him and hesitated. "Can I tell you when I see you?" he asked. "It's kind of a long story."

A long story that Trent already knows, Kurt thought huffily. And evidently won't involve a steamy make-out session. "Yeah," he replied quickly. "I'll meet you later."

Blaine smiled charmingly and patted Kurt on the shoulder in thanks and as a goodbye before heading up the stairs with Trent , leaving Kurt alone in the busy corridor.

Kurt was a little distracted up until lunchtime. It was lucky that Blaine had asked to meet him then because his Spanish teacher had held him back at break to check that he was following everything okay.

"It's probably a little different to your last school," she'd said, obviously meaning "more advanced".

"Yeah, it is," Kurt had agreed. "But I've got Rosetta Stone at home, so I'm fine. Thank you."

Now, Kurt was making his way to the Warblers' hall, painfully nervous and confused. He pushed open the door and saw the room, dark and empty. He turned on the light, sat down, and waited. Given that he and Blaine were, he assumed, still on for a rehearsal after school, he'd been planning to do some homework in the break. After a few moments, he sighed and took it out his bag. Maybe Blaine could help him with it when he came in.


	22. Chapter 22

Blaine had found a new love for 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'. He doubted whether even singing with that ghastly Nicole girl would sour it for him now. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to moan about that to Kurt after their duet because of the arrival of Mr Schuester, Kurt's old glee club coach. He'd heard the initial exchange between them before the door had closed: felt his heart leap at Mr Schue's "someone special?" and sink at Kurt's "just a friend", right before the snap of the door shutting. Of course they were just friends, he reminded himself. Why did he keep giving himself endless false hope? He'd supposed that if Kurt did really like him, he'd have told Mr Schuester – Kurt talked about him with such respect and admiration – and having it categorically stated felt like a blow to the chest, not quite real. His face felt hot and he took a breath, taking out his phone and sending Kurt yet another text.

_Meet outside after school to go rehearse?_

Blaine headed to the only place he could think of: the memorial garden. He sat on the bench and stared at the tree, fiddling with his fingernails, his hair, his tie. It was a few more minutes before a reply came.

_Yes! Sorry about Mr Schue, it was an emergency._

Wondering what kind of emergency involved asking about ex-students' love lives, Blaine just had time to text back before the bell went.

_Don't worry, it's fine :)_

Home room and lessons went by in a blur; Blaine was too busy overthinking his life to pay much attention to them. By the time the end of school came he was itching to leave. He grabbed his bag and headed out the classroom without saying goodbye to Trent.

By the time he reached their meeting spot, though, Kurt was already there.

"You don't mind my dad driving us, right?" Kurt asked him cautiously. "He's had a thing about chaperoning me to Dalton and back ever since my transfer."

Blaine nodded understandingly, but he could definitely see Burt's point of view: if he had the job of looking after Kurt, he'd never let him out his sight.

Burt and Blaine had never officially met (excluding the two-minute exchange at Kurt's front when he was ill) so Blaine tried to be on his best behaviour and smiled charmingly as he climbed into the back of the car next to Kurt.

"Hey, Mr Hummel," he said smoothly.

"Burt, please," Kurt's father insisted. "You two alright, then?"

"Absolutely," Kurt replied, clicking his seatbelt in. Blaine did likewise. There was a moment of silence as the car started moving.

Once they were driving, Burt asked, "so, what will you two be getting up to, then?"

Blaine had met enough people to identify the pointedness of the question, and smiled airily to try to break the tension. "We've both got an audition for the Christmas fête and so we were going to rehearse together," he explained.

Burt nodded, satisfied, and Kurt looked relieved. Blaine proudly inwardly congratulated himself.

The rest of the journey passed in silence, Blaine not feeling comfortable enough to try to start a conversation with Kurt or confident enough to talk to Burt, since neither of them seemed concerned with it. He recognised Kurt's house when they turned the corner of the street and waiting until Kurt did so before undoing his seatbelt. The three of them filed into the house, Kurt heading straight to the stairs, and motioning for Blaine to follow.

Blaine liked Kurt's room – it was spacious and light and made him feel happy (and it helped that Kurt wasn't lying on the bed looking ill).

"So, what was all that with Mr Schuester about earlier?" Blaine asked.

Kurt looked at him. "Oh, I'm sorry about that – he'd pulled Coach Sylvester's name out the tub at Secret Santa and needed present ideas."

"Ouch." Blaine could see why Kurt had termed that an "emergency". He hadn't met Sue Sylvester, but, from Kurt's description and various anecdotes, that seemed to be a good thing. "Did he try looking for a soul?" he joked.

Kurt nodded grimly. "It was the second thing on his list."

Blaine sat next to Kurt on the bed. "So, what did you suggest?"

"Fur-lined jackets have been around a lot this season," he answered enthusiastically. Blaine nodded, unsurprised. After a moment, Kurt said, "so, what's this about you singing with some girl at the Christmas fête?"

Blaine selfishly hoped it was jealousy that tinged Kurt's voice. "She's apparently the lead singer at Crawford Country Day – "

" – they have a glee club?"

" – and I've been asked to do a duet," Blaine finished, shrugging. "That's pretty much all there is to it, but the girl... she's... a nightmare."

Kurt looked as though Blaine had piqued his interest. "Oh, really? How so?"

Blaine fished for the right words, gesticulating with his hands. "She's... arrogant, for a start. Very popular, but not very nice. Annoyingly flirty – " Kurt pulled a face " – and constantly using text talk. It's giving me a headache."

Kurt tutted sympathetically. "Is she a good singer?" he asked.

Blaine shrugged. "I don't know, I'm rehearsing with her on Friday," he sighed. "I just... really don't want to."

Blaine felt Kurt's arm reaching lightly round his shoulders and he smiled at him weakly. "Sorry," Blaine said. "We should – we should rehearse our duet."

Kurt smiled at him, quickly rubbing Blaine's shoulder and leaning his head on it for a split second before standing up to start the CD player. Blaine got up off the bed and motioned for Kurt to start as the music began to play.


	23. Chapter 23

"I'm so nervous," Kurt whispered to Blaine as they arrived at the Warblers meeting.

"Relax, you'll be fine," Blaine smiled, looking at him. "We are gonna kill this."

Feeling mildly reassured, Kurt sat down with Blaine in their normal seats, smiling hellos to Stefan and Hugo.

"You okay?" Huge asked Kurt anxiously.

"Just nerves," Kurt explained, and Hugo nodded understandingly.

Wes stood up and called the meeting to order. "Okay, everyone, settle down," he said loudly. "First order of business: Kurt," he looked at Kurt expectantly, "how is Pavarotti?"

Kurt's stomach calmed its somersaults slightly. Ever since he had been taking care of the Warblers' private songbird, no-one had asked him about it. He smiled. "He's great," he answered. "He seems to be enjoying my bedroom."

A few Warblers smiled and laughed, and Wes nodded approvingly. "Maybe you could manage to bring him to rehearsals a couple of times? He does brighten up the room." Murmurs of agreement, and Kurt vowed to do so.

Wes clapped loudly. "Great!" he announced. "Moving on: Christmas fête auditions!" Everyone seemed to be very excited by that. Wes ran through the list of everyone auditioning, and then asked, "do we have any dual auditions?"

Kurt and Blaine were the only people to raise their hands, and everyone looked intrigued. "The floor is yours, then," Wes said brightly, and Kurt hurried to the CD player – today by the window – fumbling to get the disc out of his pocket. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous and wondered if it could be because this was the first time he and Blaine had sung together in front of anyone. He breathed deeply, tried to swallow his nerves, and started the CD.

The song went spectacularly well, with the Warblers being an extremely attentive audience. After a while Kurt almost forgot they were there at all; it was just him and Blaine, singing their song, managing – despite the sheer number of Warblers in the room – to pull of the mild choreography they'd organised last night. When the music ended, the boys around them erupted in cheers and applause and Blaine gave Kurt a quick hug. Kurt realised his hands were still shaking as the two of them sat back down.

Wes thanked them for their audition, and began calling out the list of names, but the auditions flew by: Kurt was barely listening. But he realised that he did feel threatened by the other auditions – the Warblers were all amazing, they were just very humble about it. Kurt hoped that the duet he'd done with Blaine would be enough to get not only him, but Blaine too, a spot presenting the Christmas fête show. Until then, though, he thought, sighing, he should just enjoy the auditions.

At the end of the last audition, the Warblers all applauded again (though, Kurt noticed, not as loudly as they had for him and Blaine) and Wes started passing round small sheets of paper. "Time to vote!" he announced.

"Vote?" Kurt asked Blaine, surprised. "I thought the council decided who got the solos."

Blaine smiled. "They do, when it's for show choir championships. For other less important events, we vote."

Kurt wasn't sure whether to be more or less nervous, but he took paper from Stefan and wrote on it as neatly as his still shaking hands could.

Kurt Hummel + Blaine Anderson

He glanced at Blaine and saw he had written the same thing. Blaine caught his eye and smiled at him.

As the Warblers filed out, Wes collected the sheets in a little box at the door, promising to reveal the results at lunchtime the following day. A couple of people came over to congratulate Kurt and Blaine on their performance, and, as they reached the door, Blaine hugged Kurt tightly.

"Well done," he whispered in Kurt's ear.

"You too," Kurt murmured, squeezing him back.

Blaine finally let go of Kurt and walked away, reshouldering his rucksack as he went. Kurt leant his head on the wall and watched him go, before heading out the door.


	24. Chapter 24

Blaine was nervous about the solos announcement, although he wasn't sure why – he'd never got this anxious before. He wondered if it was because Kurt looked so worried, wringing his hands and sitting bolt upright on the sofa. Blaine grabbed Kurt's hands and squeezed them.

"Please," he said, looking at Kurt, "stop stressing. There's nothing we can do about it now anyway, so just... relax."

That seemed to help a bit: Kurt sighed and leaned back. Blaine ignored the raised eyebrows that Stefan and Hugo exchanged.

Before Kurt could say anything, though, Wes stood up and the room quietened immediately.

"So this is just a quick meeting, guys," Wes said. "But we've counted the votes and are here to announce who will be hosting the Christmas fête!"

There were a couple of cheers and a smatter of applause.

"Now," Wes motioned for silence, "it same to a four-way tie, so the council has made the final decision. But, because of their great dynamics and clear ability to work together – " Kurt held his breath " – we have decided that the hosts of the fête will be Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson!"

The Warblers applauded like there was no tomorrow, and Blaine felt a hundred congratulatory claps on the shoulder. Kurt was speechless and turned in his seat to hug Blaine – a hug that Blaine immediately returned.

When the room died down, Wes said, "so we'll discuss the details next week. Congrats, guys. Okay, then, everyone feel free to go!"

A mass of boys leapt to their feet and headed for the door. Blaine and Kurt stayed sat down, as usual, until the room was a bit clearer, but this time Blaine waited until even the Warbler council had left.

"Well done," he said to Kurt.

"You too." There was a pause. "Do you want to go get lunch?"

Blaine sighed, and then laughed. "Yes. I do. But I wanted to ask your advice about girls first."

Kurt burst out laughing.

"No, I'm serious," Blaine said. "Because tonight I've got my rehearsal with... Nicole." He said her name through gritted teeth. "I've barely spoken to a girl since I transferred from my last school, so I was just wondering if you could give me any pointers."

Kurt smiled. "Well, I am definitely not the person to come to. But what kind of thing?"

Blaine sighed. "I think that she might try to have sex with me."

Kurt visibly bristled, the paused and laughed. "I've never had that problem personally," he said slowly.

"I know, I know." Blaine smiled, and said, "I just don't know what to do about it."

Kurt headed towards the door. "Eat some lunch to get your strength up?" he suggested.

Blaine laughed. "Alright, fine."

By the time Blaine was sat down in Maths, he'd stopped paying attention and started wondering why time always went faster when you were trying to put something off. He glanced up at the clock, double-taking when he saw it was twenty minutes later than it had been when he'd last looked. Where was the time going?

He sat back in his seat, pushing the chair onto its back legs and scratching the back of his neck with his pen. The equations in his textbook glared at him and he glared back.

Buzz. Blaine froze and set his jaw. If that's Nicole... he thought in exasperation. She been messaging him every so often with trivial – and often pointless – things:

_Nicole: they wer plyin bby its col outside in 4eva 21!_

_Nicole: my frend sez ur cute 3_

_Nicole: can u b werin ur jaket 4 fri?_

Before Blaine knew it, though, the bell had done and he was walking down the corridor, swept up in the sea of students.

It was nearly a fifteen-minute walk to Crawford Country Day, but it was a straightforward one. Blaine knew that the girls' school finished later than Dalton, so wasn't surprised when he saw a stream of girl heading out the gates as he arrived. As a boy (and in Dalton uniform, no less) he got several looks from the girls as he awkwardly loitered by the gates. He half-hoped that Nicole wouldn't recognise him and he could just go home.

No such luck. A slim blonde girl, taller than Blaine in her high-heeled shoes, broke off from the group of friends Blaine recognised from the Facebook pictures and marched over to him, flicking her hair over one shoulder as she walked. Blaine could see that she knew she looked good.

"Blaine Anderson," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She held out her hand in such a way that said she expected him to kiss it.

Conscious of the group of her friends still watching them, Blaine smiled politely and shook the hand pleasantly. "Hi, Nicole."

Looking slightly put off by Blaine's disobedience, Nicole smoothed down her shirt slowly, catching Blaine's eye and saying, "let's go, then."

Blaine pursed his lips. "Sure." He motioned for her to lead the way, which she did after a backwards glance to her friends, who all giggled irritatingly. Luckily, none of them saw Blaine's eyeroll.

They walked to Nicole's house, which was about twenty minutes away. Initially, Nicole talking – fairly solidly, and about herself. Blaine made an effort to listen and "ah"ed and "oh"ed in all the appropriate places. After about ten minutes, Nicole finally ran out of things to say and silence fell, only to be broken with an evidently very staged, "so, Blaine, have you got a girlfriend?"

Blaine looked at her. He'd expected the question, he supposed, but even so...

"No," Blaine answered. "No, I haven't."

Nicole looked a bit too pleased with that response for Blaine's liking, but before he could say anything else, Nicole pulled out her phone and started typing. Blaine sighed, staring down at the pavement in desperation.

Nicole's house was huge. Double-garage, that you had to walk past to get to the front door. Front door with a giant lionhead brass knocker. Front garden with colour-coordinated flower beds and symmetrical arrangement of birdbaths. Hallway with rug, chandelier, umbrella stand, hat stand, mirror, cupboard and bookshelf. Blaine noticed that the bookshelf held trophies and no books. Nicole slung her bad in the corner by the door and motioned for Blaine to do the same. He leant his rucksack carefully by the hat stand.

"So, it's just you and your parents here?" he asked.

Nicole shrugged. "My brother comes to stay sometimes, but he'd got his own place cos he's a college in Indiana," she answered, leaning playfully on the stair banister. After a short pause, she said, "do you want to rehearse in my bedroom?" Blaine noticed slightly odd emphasis on the word "rehearse".

"Alright," Blaine replied. Nicole looked far too satisfied with that response, and led the way up the stairs. Blaine felt his pocket buzz, and glanced at his phone to see a text from Kurt.

_How's your rehearsal going?_

Blaine's heart wanted to text back immediately, but his brain said it would be rude and, with a sigh, he put his phone back in pocket and trudged up the stairs after Nicole.

Nicole's room was such a cliché Blaine almost laughed. The walls were a pastel pink colour, with a noticeboard covered in photographs of Nicole and various other girls, and there were cuddly toys everywhere. In the centre of the room against the wall was a queen-size bed with floral covers, which Nicole sat down on and motioned for Blaine to do too.

Blaine sat down but left a space between Nicole and himself. She kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs, pulling her skirt up so it no longer covered her knees and left a bit of her thigh exposed.

Blaine sighed. "Do you have a backing track?"

Nicole paused, looking slightly confused. "What?"

"For 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'," Blaine said, raising his eyebrows. "Unless you don't want one."

Nicole leant away from Blaine slightly. "Oh. Well, no, I don't."

Blaine smiled wryly and pulled the CD he'd used to rehearse with Kurt out his pocket. "Well, we can use this one, if you want," he said quietly, feeling like he was betraying Kurt. That was their track, and now he would sing with Nicole and spoil everything.

Nicole smiled at Blaine and snatched the disc out his hand, crawling across the bed to put it in her CD player. Blaine wondered whether she meant to stay in that position for as long as she did and came to conclusion that she probably did. He rubbed his eyes wearily as the music started.

To Nicole's credit, she was an excellent singer. Unfortunately, she had a terrible sense of personal space and consistently attempted to lean on, hug and dance with Blaine – in spite of the lyrics that she was singing.

Blaine tried to forget where he was, thinking about singing it with Kurt the day before yesterday. He heard her voice and tried to hear Kurt's. By the end of the song, he'd almost managed it, seeing Kurt's blue eyes instead of her brown ones. He sat down on the bed next to her just like he had with Kurt on the sofa in the Warblers' hall for the last line of the song.

Before he knew it, though, Nicole had leant in and pressed her lips to his. Blaine felt a cry of surprise rise in his throat but come out his nose as "mmm!". He pushed her shoulders, and leant backwards, wild-eyed. She smiled at him teasingly. "You alright, Blaine?" she asked, not sounding as though she meant to be concerned.

"No," Blaine replied firmly, shaking his head. "Nicole, I think we should keep our relationship strictly professional – "

"Professional, gotcha." She winked.

Blaine frowned. "As in, we just perform this song and we go our separate ways."

Nicole narrowed her eyes, trying to read him. "What?" she said huffily. "You don't think I'm hot?"

"What?" Blaine asked, bewildered.

"Is that what this is? That's a really dick move, Blaine! Sending me all those Facebook messages and then you finally meet me and you think I'm not as hot as I look in my photos! Well, screw you!"

Blaine opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't think of anything to say. "What?" he asked again.

"What?" Nicole said back angrily.

Blaine took a breath. "Nicole, I came here to rehearse a song with you."

She folded her arms stubbornly. "But you don't think I'm hot."

"I never said that – "

"So you do think I'm hot?" Nicole raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Blaine paused, not sure what to say. "Nicole... I... um..."

Nicole looked at him. "You like someone else."

Blaine stared at her. "How –?"

"Your face," she replied matter-of-factly. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Does she go to my school?" she asked tetchily.

Blaine almost laughed. "No."

"Do I know her?"

"I doubt it."

"What's her name?"

Blaine paused. "Well, we've rehearsed now, I'd better be going – "

"What's her name?" Nicole almost shouted.

Blaine swallowed. "His name's Kurt."

Nicole looked horrified. "You're..."

Blaine waited for her to finish, but she didn't. "Yeah. I am," he answered anyway.

She sniffed self-importantly and looked down. "Blaine, I think you should go."

Blaine frowned, but stood up. "Alright," he said, fetching his CD, heading out the door, down the stairs, grabbing his bag and letting himself out.


	25. Chapter 25

"Hey, bud," Burt greeted Kurt when he climbed into the car after school.

"Hi, Dad," Kurt said, distracted by the sight of Blaine disappearing up the road on his way to Dalton's sister school to meet some girl. Kurt was trying not to seethe with jealousy.

"Kurt?" His father looked at him anxiously. "What's up?"

Kurt turned to face him and smiled. "Nothing," he replied smoothly. "I'm fine." He scratched his ear absently while Burt started the car.

"So, how was your day?"

Kurt's automatic answer of "fine" was out his mouth before he realised he was saying it. He took a breath. "Actually, it was great. Do you remember when I told you about the Christmas fête?"

Burt pulled out onto the road. "Yeah, I remember. You were auditioning with Blaine."

"Yes!" Kurt grinned excitedly "And – and we got it!"

"Oh, Kurt!" Burt looked at him and smiled the most widely Kurt had ever seen. "You actually got it! You did it!" He took one hand off the wheel and patted Kurt proudly on the shoulder. "After everything, you did it." He sniffed loudly and caught himself, putting his hand back on the wheel. "I'm so proud of you, Kurt."

Kurt beamed and leant his head against the back of the seat. He was proud of himself.

"I love you, Kurt."

"I love you too, Dad."

Burt was still rambling about how Kurt had "done it" when they arrived home, Kurt unlocking the door and letting them in. Suddenly, Burt engulfed Kurt in a huge bear hug, holding him tightly.

"Dad, it's not that big of a deal," Kurt laughed.

"Well, it is to me!" Burt replied, squeezing him harder.

At this point, Finn poked his head round the kitchen door. "What's a big deal?" he asked anxiously through a mouthful of chocolate cake.

Burt looked up at his stepson, keeping his hands firmly on Kurt's shoulders. "He got the part he auditioned for!" he cried proudly. "He's presenting the fête – him, out of all those other boys..."

"There weren't that many other boys," Kurt added, raising his eyebrows at the crumbs and icing round Finn's mouth.

Finn licked his lips and shrugged, smiling. "Wow, Kurt, congrats," he grinned. "So you're presenting the Christmas fête?"

"Me and Blaine," Kurt nodded.

Finn gave Kurt a quick guy-hug. "Well, I'll be there to see it, buddy," he promised, before nodded at Burt and heading upstairs.

Kurt shrugged out of his father's grip and started up the stairs too. "Actually, I've got a load of homework," he said. "I'll watch TV with you later?"

Burt smiled and nodded. "Ah, okay, Kurt," he replied.

When Kurt got into the room, the first thing he noticed was Pavarotti's angry chirps and the sound of feather on cage. He rushed over to the windowsill to see the canary throwing himself against the bars of his cage, and carefully unlocked the door, guiding the bird onto his outstretched finger. That seemed to calm him down a bit and he settled for chirping haughtily and puffing his chest out. Kurt walked with Pavarotti to his bed, coaxing the bird into his post which was sat on Kurt's bedside table. Pavarotti ruffled his feather self-importantly.

Kurt walked back to Pavarotti's cage, inspecting it carefully to see what the problem could have been. There was food, there was water, everything seemed to be in order. He sighed and glanced absent-mindedly out the window.

And froze in horror.

Dave Karofsky was leaning against the lamppost on the opposite side of the street. He was chewing something and his eyes were travelling across Kurt's house, taking in every detail (or so it seemed to Kurt).

Finally, after a lifetime, Karofsky looked up at the window where Kurt was standing, rooted to the ground in fear. The moment their eyes met, Kurt felt a surge of energy and he all but fell sideways, stumbling into the corner of his room and sliding down the wall, holding his head in his hands and breathing heavily.

Karofsky hadn't looked angry, or like he was trying to make Kurt afraid. He just... looked. With his jaw stubbornly set. Like a challenge. That was what had scared Kurt so much – Karofsky saw him as an equal but not in a good way. Kurt swallowed, and slowly stood up. He peered through his curtains at the street. Karofsky had gone.

Not knowing what to do, Kurt sat back down on the bed, rubbing Pavarotti's head gently, and trying to calm down. In the end, he pulled out his phone and texted Blaine, hoping against hope he'd text back.

_How's your rehearsal going?_

Kurt held his phone tightly against his chest and leant back against his pillow, curling his legs up underneath him and not even caring that he was still wearing shoes. He felt tears form in his eyes and tried to blink them back. Courage, he thought. Courage. Courage. Courage.

It was after another few minutes of this that Kurt's phone started ringing. Kurt immediately saw who was calling and answered it. "Blaine!"

"Kurt," Blaine voice came out the speaker. "I'm so glad you picked up, that girl – Nicole – was crazy. I'm walking home now, she just threw me out, it was so weird – "

"Karofsky," Kurt blurted out.

There was a pause: silence, only broken by the rush of a truck, coming down the line.

"What?" Blaine asked quietly.

"Karofsky – he was here – he was outside – oh, god, Blaine, he knows where I live – my dad – his heart – and Finn and Carole – Blaine," Kurt hiccoughed and the tears he had so valiantly blinked away came streaming down his face.

"Did he do anything?" Blaine asked quickly.

"No, no, no," Kurt shook his head despite the fact that Blaine couldn't see it. "He was just – standing – " Kurt took a breath and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand.

"Is he still there?"

"I – don't think so."

"Right," Blaine said assertively. "I'll be at yours in ten minutes. I see the bus."

"You don't have to – "

"Yes, Kurt, of course I do."

Blaine hung up and Kurt looked at Pavarotti for answers. The bird ruffled his feathers and chirped knowingly, but didn't divulge.

When the doorbell rand nine minutes, Kurt flew down the stairs. There were still tears on his face. He threw open the door and all but fell into Blaine's open arms, pressing his face into Blaine's neck. Neither boy moved for a few moments, clutching one another tightly.

A voice broke them apart. "Oh, hey, Blaine." Finn had just emerged from the kitchen with a bowl of ice cream. When he saw his brother, his face changed. "Oh my god, Kurt, are you okay?"

Kurt guessed that his tear-streaked face and puffy red eyes were not flattering, and he hiccoughed again.

Blaine took control of the situation. "Finn, could you give us a minute?" He stepped inside awkwardly, guiding Kurt's hand into his own and pulling his friend up the stairs. "It's kind of an emergency."

Finn put down his bowl, and looked at them seriously. "What is it?" he asked persistently.

Blaine glanced at Kurt. Kurt sighed and wiped his eyes again. "It's... Karofsky," he whispered.


	26. Chapter 26

It was horrible to see Kurt so scared all over again. Blaine felt so painfully powerless, sitting in Kurt's living room next to his friend. Burt sat opposite them; Finn took an armchair to Blaine's left; Carole hovered in the doorway.

Burt had wanted to call the police straight away, but Carole had argued that, since Karofsky didn't technically do anything, there wasn't anything the police could do.

"He didn't do anything?" Burt had bellowed. "He threatened to kill my son!"

Kurt had stopped crying, but he was breathing deeply and his shaking hands were clutching tightly onto Blaine's. Finn noticed the contact but didn't say anything.

Still raging about Kurt's transfer to Dalton, and all the drama with Karofsky's father, and the ignorance of people, Burt had failed to pick up on how closely his son sat next to Blaine. Blaine was glad about that, because (listening to Kurt's father's fury now) he knew he didn't want to be on the receiving end of a rant from Burt Hummel.

After a few minutes of Burt pacing past the coffee table, Carole strode up to him and put an arm round his shoulders, coaxing him out the room. "Come on, honey," she was saying. "I'll make you a coffee. There's nothing we can do about it tonight anyway."

The two of them left, leaving Blaine, Kurt and Finn in an uncomfortable silence. Blaine could sense that Finn wanted to go too, but chivalry and concern was keeping his in his seat. When Finn glanced up and saw Blaine looking at him, he frowned. Blaine raised his eyebrows towards the door and mouthed, "I got this." Finn gave him a nervous smile of relief and headed out the door, patting Kurt supportively on the shoulder as he passed.

Kurt had been very still all this time, if you weren't counting the shivering. When the door clicked shut, he almost seemed to melt, collapsing onto Blaine and burying his face into Blaine's blazer shoulder.

Blaine managed to extract his arm from underneath Kurt and wrapped it round him, murmuring consolations since he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I just – " Kurt hiccoughed " – I thought he'd gone. I thought we'd won." Blaine noted the use of the word "we", but just nodded in response. "You know, not like I'd beaten him or anything, but just that... We're at Dalton. Safe. Don't have to be scared anymore." Kurt played his hands, twisting his fingers together. "And then when I saw him... I was scared. So scared. And it had just all crumbled; it didn't matter about transfer, because he's still here."

Blaine held Kurt tightly. "Maybe he didn't mean to scare you," he suggested. "There's no reason to suspect the worst – he didn't do anything – "

Kurt pulled his legs up under him and sniffed dramatically. "I guess," he said, wiping his eyes. "Did I overreact? Getting you to come all the way here with no warning, I mean. Which you didn't have to do, by the way."

"I wanted to come. I wanted to check you were okay," Blaine said. "I'm so glad you told me; if something had happened, I'd've felt so guilty."

Kurt smiled, and Blaine felt relief wash over him like air conditioning. Kurt was smiling, so everything was fine. He smiled back and rubbed Kurt's shoulder.

The two sat in companionable quiet for a few minutes, before Kurt squirmed and looked at Blaine. "I forgot!" he cried. "How was your rehearsal? Did you talk about it earlier?"

Blaine almost laughed: here he was, supposed to be comforting Kurt and instead being asking about his day. "I don't even know, Kurt," he answered finally. "She was completely crazy."

"Oh, really?" That had piqued Kurt's interest, and he sat up, looking at Blaine expectantly with his big blue eyes.

Blaine half-smiled, licked his lips absently as he thought of what to say. "Well... yeah." He sighed and continued. "She lives in this massive house, spoiled completely rotten – " he took a breath " – and she tried to kiss me."

He almost chuckled at Kurt's overdramatic gasp. "But then," he said, and paused. "Then I told her I was gay, and she practically threw me out herself."

Kurt guffawed and ran a hand through his hair. "Girls are such mysteries," he agreed sympathetically. "So does that mean you're not singing 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' with her?"

Blaine shrugged. "I have no idea what it means, Kurt. But I hope I never have to see her again. She was a nightmare."

"It's hard to believe that schools like Dalton and Crawford Country Day are, in some respects, complete replicas of McKinley," Kurt said sadly, leaning back down on Blaine's shoulder companionably.

"But, hey," Blaine said suddenly. "Did we forget to celebrate our victory of getting leads for the annual Dalton Christmas fête?"

Kurt beamed playfully, gazing happily up at Blaine. "I think we did," he replied.

"Unbelievable," Blaine laughed. "Well, Kurt, congratulations."

"Yes, you too," Kurt smiled. "I'm assuming we'll be opening with our winning number?"

"Naturally," Blaine responded. "I guess the Warbler council'll have some requests; we'll have to write a little bit of material; it should be a lot of fun."

Kurt rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. "I'm so excited," he said.

"Excited enough to forget about Karofsky? Just for now?"

Kurt's blue eyes bored into Blaine, trying to figure something out. "What makes you say that?"

Blaine sighed. "This is Dalton, Kurt. This is us. We're fine. We're safe. And so long as Karofsky doesn't do anything, it'll stay that way. There're no threats and we don't have to worry."

Kurt sighed, defeated. "I'll try, Blaine. I'll truly try. But I can't make any promises."

"Well," said Blaine, "what if I were to promise to be here for you, whatever happens? Would you finally relax then?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, and smiled. "Fine."


	27. Chapter 27

After all the excitement, the weekend flew by quickly. Blaine had headed home on Friday night after some hinting from Burt (much to Kurt's dismay), and Kurt himself had decided to stay, for Saturday and the majority of Sunday, holed up in his room. He'd finished a lot of homework and caught up on the most recent 'Top Model' episodes, reorganised his hat collection and given himself a mini-facial.

By the time Monday and school came, Kurt was feeling refreshed and ready to take on the world, which was extremely helpful.

The first Warblers meeting of the week had been Wes giving one extremely long pep-talk, and had finished with him reading out the song suggestion that had been offered up by various Warblers.

Once they'd reached Thursday though, the rehearsal for Blaine and Kurt were stretching late into the evenings. Not only did they have to learn their parts and choreography for the Warblers' backing singing for a selection of the acts, but they had to learn their own solo parts and work out moves for them and rest of the Warblers.

Kurt thoroughly enjoyed every second of it, savouring the respect and admiration he felt sure he was receiving from the other Warblers and wishing he could see Rachel's face now that he had the lead. He and Blaine worked spectacularly well together, of that he was sure.

7:30pm came and Wes finally decided to call time. "You've been absolutely brilliant, guys, so thank you for all your hard work over the past week. Tomorrow, we have no rehearsal, so get some sleep! Get lots of sleep. Saturday is obviously the day of the fête, so we're meeting here at midday for a dress rehearsal ready for the evening."

There were some murmurs that Wes had been understood, and the boys started to leave.

Kurt headed to the corner of the room where he'd left his bag, breathlessly reaching for his bottle of water and taking a few gulps.

"You were really good today," came a voice behind him. Kurt spun around and smiled when he saw Blaine.

"Thank you," he beamed. "As always, so were you."

Blaine grinned humbly and fiddled with his blazer button. "So, you seem to be settling in well. One the boys."

Kurt thought of the rest of the Warblers and nodded. "I think I've finally got the hang of how you guys work," he commented. "It's nice."

"Better than McKinley?" Blaine asked, eyebrows raised.

Kurt sighed. "Just different," he said. He didn't bother saying that Blaine was here so of course it was better.

Blaine nodded understandingly. "Are your old glee club coming to see your amazing star part?"

Kurt gasped, horrified. "I haven't even told them!" he cried, whipping out his phone and messaging Mercedes immediately. He distractedly noticed Blaine's quiet laugh and looked up to see Blaine lower his eyes, as though he hadn't been looking at him anyway. Kurt pursed his lips and sent his text to Mercedes.

_Starring in Dalton's Christmas fete, wasn't to come see? Bring the NDs xx_

"Right, done," Kurt said triumphantly, waving his phone in Blaine's face before putting it back in his pocket.

Blaine smiled and nodded, before glancing at his watch. "Gosh, I've gotta go!" he exclaimed. "I'm getting the bus tonight."

Kurt was about to offer Blaine a lift with him and his dad, but Blaine was gonna before he got the chance. He sighed and shouldered his satchel, heading out into the cold.


	28. Chapter 28

Blaine was exhausted by Saturday, despite him getting twelve hours of sleep the night before. He was still bleary-eyed when he stumbled into the school hall, a cup of Lima Bean coffee firmly grasped in his hand. His Dalton uniform was replaced with a while polo shirt and light brown jeans. He'd thrown on a red hoodie and grabbed his rucksack (now containing his school uniform for the evening performance) before heading out the house, having barely had the will to gel his hair.

Kurt, however, had embraced the chance for winter fashion, and was wearing one of those fur-lined jackets he'd been raving about, over a simple white shirt and grey waistcoat – which was set off by grey trousers and chunky boots.

"Blaine!" Kurt skipped over to his friend excitedly. "You're late!"

Blaine yawned and blinked sleep from his eyes. "I need coffee. Sorry," he explained, motioning to the cup in his hand.

"It's twelve-thirty," Kurt said suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

Shrugging, Blaine commented, "I've been feeling really tired lately. Maybe it's the cold." He looked out the window at the bleak drizzle and sighed.

"Well," pouted Kurt dramatically, "you'd better be feeling more awake by tonight. Mercedes is coming to see us and she's bringing all the New Directions with her."

Blaine smiled sleepily at the excitement in Kurt's voice, and shook himself awake. He had to perform in a few hours and he couldn't let Kurt down. "Right, okay," he said, dropping his bag near the wall and gulping the remains of his drink. "Let's do this."


	29. Chapter 29

They ran through everything twice (Wes constantly yelling things and forcing them to pause), and finished before 6pm. With the fête's performance starting at 7pm, the Warblers had time to clear out and set up before people started arriving when doors opened at half past.

Kurt spied Finn's head towering over the crowd at ten to. He tapped Blaine's shoulder without looking at him and dived into the sea of people.

Surprisingly, Brittany was the first person to see him. "Hey, it's Kurt!" she cried happily. "I knew you were gonna be here, Kurt; Santana told me. I can see why you transferred – these boys are cute." She motioned towards the other Dalton boys: Warblers greeting family and other students here to watch.

Kurt laughed awkwardly. "Thanks, Britt," he said uncertainly, but by this time the rest of the McKinley kids had swarmed and were pulling Kurt every which way in hugs and pats and a huge cheer erupted from the group.

Mercedes quickly engulfed Kurt, pulling him close and squeezing him tightly. "Congratulations, baby," she beamed. "It's so good to see you!"

By this time, Rachel had demanded attention and announced, "I think we'd all like to say well done to Kurt for finally getting himself a solo." Claps and cheers. Rachel smiled at Kurt. "And we're all very pleased that you're so happy here. And Mr Schue couldn't actually be here tonight, but he sends his love."

Kurt felt teary at the fact that everyone had everyone and was now wishing him good luck – even Puck acknowledged him with a nod, a smile and a "good to see you, man." Artie had somehow managed to find a space for his wheelchair and was able to be a part of the action. Kurt was also finally introduced to his replacement in the New Directions: a terrifying girl called Lauren, who spent the entire time having eye sex with Puck.

After all this, Finn reluctantly tapped Kurt on the shoulder. "Aren't you supposed to be on at seven...?"

Kurt glanced at the time and gasped. "Oh my gosh, I've got to go!" He flew to backstage as quickly as he could, shouting goodbyes to his friends as he went.

"Kurt!" Blaine grabbed him by the shoulders and led him towards the stage. "You cut it fine."

"Sorry," Kurt said breathlessly, his skin tingling with excitement – whether it was from nerves or Blaine touching him, he wasn't sure. "Lost track of time."

Blaine nodded understandingly. "Well, you're here now," he smiled. "That's what counts."

Kurt beamed back. "Yes, I am," he agreed.

At this moment, Wes leapt towards them, gripping Kurt's left shoulder and Blaine right tightly. "Kurt! You're here. Wonderful. Alright, guys, let's do this." He motioned for the other Warblers to get into position behind the closed curtain. Blaine hurried across the stage to the other side, meaning he made his entrance from stage left after Kurt came in from stage right.

Kurt's stomach twisted nervously, and he smiled at Blaine support. Blaine, being Blaine, grinned back, completely relaxed.

It went quiet as the audience fell silent, and then all of a sudden, the curtain parted and the Warblers started to sing.


	30. Chapter 30

Much to Blaine's dismay, his duet with Nicole was still scheduled to take place. He and Kurt browsed the program for the show during the interval.

"Is Nicole even here?" Kurt asked frustratedly, trying to scan the audience in the room through the stage curtain.

"I don't know," Blaine sighed, rubbing his eyes for the umpteenth time. Why was he so tired? "And even if she is, she's not gonna sing with me – I don't really know what happened, but I doubt she wants to see me, let alone sing with me."

Kurt shrugged, turning back to Blaine. "What'll we do if she's not here?"

Blaine shook his head. "What worries me is what'll happen if she is."

The show continued without a hitch until that point. Kurt and Blaine, prompted by the autocue but adding in their own one-liners and comments, presented and performed spectacularly. However, when it came to the moment of truth, and Kurt said, "now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome out sister school Crawford Country Day's Nicole Spiron, singing with our Blaine Anderson, 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'," Nicole didn't show. Blaine was fairly certain that, if she were here at all, she'd come onstage to perform. As it was, Kurt had politely backed offstage during the applause and Blaine was left awkwardly loitering on the stage, the stage lights hot on his face.

Someone coughed.

Blaine wasn't sure what to do. He could sense the panic backstage as Wes tried to figure out how to fix the current situation.

There was a small cough from behind Blaine. He turned, conscious of the audience's eyes on him. Kurt stood there, and raised the microphone to his mouth. "Apologies, everyone, but Nicole is currently MIA, so, at the eleventh hour, I have become her replacement." Kurt smiled coyly at Blaine and Blaine's breath caught in throat. After what seemed like too long, he returned the smile and switched his mic into his right hand awkwardly before the music started.


	31. Chapter 31

Wes was still insistent that Kurt had saved the entire show. Kurt was still blushing, but had stopped humbly denying it.

The curtain had fallen, a few acts after Kurt and Blaine's duet of 'Baby, It's Cold Outside', while the Warblers were performing backing singing to the closing number: a rewritten duet version of 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas' that Blaine had presented Kurt with a few days previously, looking as proud as a peacock.

Kurt was still buzzed after the performance when he and Blaine were walking out of the school half an hour later. The Warblers had been enlisted to help with the clean-up but after a while David suggested that the two of them go home early to make up for all the work they'd put in, and was met with murmurs of agreement from the other boys. So, they were walking through the dark car park, white breath whipped away by the breeze.

"Are you driving home?" Blaine asked conversationally.

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "Dad, Finn and Carole left already and I have my car from rehearsals earlier." He looked at Blaine suddenly. "Do you want a lift?"

Blaine looked surprised by the offer. "No, don't worry. I won't bother you with that."

"What, you don't trust my driving?" Kurt asked jokily. He motioned and made a beeline for his car. Blaine followed him obediently, smiling.

Once inside the car, Kurt put on the heating and tried to rub some warmth back into his freezing fingers before checking his hair in the driver's mirror. Blaine subtly turned on the radio while Kurt was preoccupied.

Hearing the music, Kurt looked at Blaine and saw a very innocent-looking face. Kurt rolled his eyes and laughed. "I should have known the radio'd be the first thing you saw." He put the car into drive and pulled out onto the road. "I've never seen your house," he commented.

Blaine shrugged. "Not much to see," responded, surprisingly reserved.

Kurt frowned. "Why's that?" he asked.

Sigh. Breath. Pause. "My dad's in it," was Blaine's final answer.

"What's wrong with your dad?" Kurt asked, a horrible feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach.

"Well, nothing, especially, I guess," Blaine answered. "But... he doesn't really get me."

"Is it about you being gay?" Kurt glanced off the road to look at his friend.

"No. Well. Yes and no."

Kurt sighed. "What, then?"

Blaine sounded as though he needed to get something off his chest. "Just – my piano playing, and being in the Warblers – he doesn't 'approve'," he ranted. "And he always says how he wants to connect with me but he'll build cars with me and we'll fish – he took me hunting once, about a year ago. He tried to pick the most masculine thing he can think of to do with me and he called it bonding, you know? He doesn't even ask me what I want to do."

Kurt wanted to hug Blaine and never let go, but his hands (lucky for the Vauxhall in front) stayed on the wheel. "I'm so sorry," he said eventually.

Blaine tried to say something in return, but it came out as a teary-sounding "yep".

"So that's why you always come round my house," Kurt said, trying to lighten the mood.

Blaine half-laughed and nodded. "Where your dad will let you teach him how to make brunch? Yeah."

They drove in silence for a few minutes until Kurt broke it by asking which turning he should take to get to Blaine's house.

"So he's never come to see you perform?" Kurt asked.

"Nope. My brother comes, sometimes, when he's in the area."

"I didn't know you had a brother, Blaine," Kurt gasped in mock shock that he'd never been told.

Blaine laughed. "Well, I don't talk about him much because he's hardly ever in Ohio. He works in telly – although it's not really going anywhere right now. I think he's got an audition for some commercial." He sighed. "But it leaves me at home with my parents."

"What about your mum?" Kurt said.

"She's great and all, but she'll side with my dad on everything." Blaine leaned his forehead against the window. "And she's a nurse, so her work hours are all over the place and I don't see her that much." He looked up, suddenly aware of what he'd said. "Oh my god – not that – I didn't – "

Kurt almost laughed. "Don't worry, Blaine. It's fine." It was always awkward for Kurt when someone brought up his mother while talking about theirs. "So it's just you and your dad, huh?"

"Yeah," Blaine sighed again. "Pretty much. And so it kind of sucks."

Kurt felt terrible for Blaine, and it was with reluctance that he pulled the car over outside Blaine's house.

"You could sleep over at my house?" he suggested hopefully.

Blaine laughed quietly and undid the seatbelt, looking at Kurt with his dark eyes. "Thanks for the ride, Kurt. I'll see you on Monday."

And just like that, with a thud of the car door, he'd gone.

It wasn't until Kurt was halfway home that he realised he'd asked Blaine to sleep over and he cringed behind the wheel. Why did he always have to say such stupid things? Him and his big mouth.


	32. Chapter 32

Sunday had brought snow, but Dalton remained open for its final week. Blaine sat in home room on Monday worrying that the flurry that had caught him off guard had messed with his hair gel, and, paranoid, kept tracing his fingers over his head.

Trent burst into the room and practically flew into the chair on Blaine's right. "I am still pumped from the Christmas fête!" he cried.

Blaine grinned, his friend's contagious enthusiasm dominating his hair paranoia. "Trent, it was two days ago," he said.

"Even so!" Trent stamped his feet excitedly. "You were amazing. And so was Kurt." His eyes slid across to the seat on Blaine's left. "Speaking of Kurt: isn't he normally here by now?"

Blaine hoped that that comment hadn't been triggered through him wondering the same thing. Ever since Saturday, Blaine had been thinking more and more about Kurt and his suggestion that Blaine "sleep over". Of course, Blaine knew what Kurt had really meant, but, even so, it had got him thinking.

"No, I don't know," Blaine answered casually.

"You don't think he's ill again, do you?" Trent asked, suddenly worried.

"No, I'm sure he's just a little late. There's ages before the bell anyway." Blaine's eyes were drawn to movement at the door. "In fact, speak of the devil..."

Kurt walked into the room in an explosion of snow. He looked like a half-coloured-in drawing, with white in his hair, on his face, on his clothes, and on his desk now he'd thrown his bag on it.

"It is snowing like there is no tomorrow out there," Kurt moaned. "And if it carries on, there won't be."

Blaine laughed and stood up to help Kurt brush snow off his blazer. "This much snow got on you in the time it took to walk from your car inside?" he chuckled.

Kurt groaned. "It's got in my hair!" he cried woefully.

Blaine stopped finding it quite so funny and immediately leapt into rescue mode, acting as Kurt's eyes or the occasional extra hand while Kurt performed emergency styling, using the reflection of himself in the window.

It was stunning to watch Kurt when he was concentrating so hard. Blaine noticed that Kurt's lips parted as his tongue unconsciously moved to the back of his mouth while he was thinking. There were a few snowflakes half-melting on Kurt's eyelashes, and they made his eyes seem to glint in the morning light. Even though he was frowning in panic, his forehead was barely furrowing; Blaine made a mental note to ask Kurt about his infamous moisturising regime sometime.

Blaine didn't realise he was being so conspicuous at gawping at Kurt until Trent cleared his throat loudly and raised his eyebrows. What are you doing?

At this point, Blaine all but leapt backwards away from Kurt, but luckily Kurt had finished doing his hair and didn't notice.


	33. Chapter 33

The week chugged by fairly quickly. With classes winding down and (as Wes reluctantly told them) no more Warblers rehearsals, Kurt was extremely relaxed and looking forward to the holidays. He already had plans with Mercedes and Rachel over the festive period. However, when their teacher told them on Thursday morning to "remember to bring food tomorrow," Kurt was confused.

"It's the Christmas party," Blaine explained, in between Trent's squeals of excitement. "We don't have any lessons tomorrow; we all just stay in home room and hang out, pretty much. Then we have a final assembly, and then we all go out for lunch – but that part's optional, obviously."

Kurt's mind raced, thinking of all the cakes he could bake in one evening, and he nodded happily. "Excellent," he said. "So were you going to go out for lunch?"

Blaine shrugged. "I guess so, yeah. Want to come too?"

"Yes, please," Kurt replied immediately.

On Friday, Kurt walked into home room carrying no fewer than five different tins of cake.

"Gosh, Kurt!" Blaine exclaimed, rushing to help him. "Did you explode your kitchen?"

"I don't know," Kurt answered breathlessly. "But I do know that you'll want to snap up a chocolate brownie before they're gone. They delicious, even if I do say so myself."

Blaine laughed good-naturedly and nodded. "Noted."

By this time, Trent had arrived and taken a tin from the four that Blaine had chivalrously relieved Kurt of. "Jeez, Kurt, what did you do?" he asked.

"Made cake," Kurt replied. "For the end of the semester."

Trent cracked open the lid of the tin he was carrying and peered inside. "It's this a Yule log?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's two," said Kurt. "I made one and thought that there wouldn't be enough."

"How long did you spend on this, Kurt?" Blaine wondered.

Kurt looked at the floor guiltily. "Too long, I suppose," he admitted. "But Carole was out and Dad was in the garage and I was hardly going to ask Finn to help me – "

"Well, I could've helped," Blaine suggested, and then immediately looked as though he wanted to take it back. He looked awkwardly at Kurt.

Was that what Kurt thought it was? Was he being asked out? In a very convoluted way, yes, but was he?

Kurt met Blaine's gaze. "I suppose I could've asked you," he said slowly, "but I didn't think of you as much of a baker, Blaine."

Blaine shrugged, looking more relaxed. "I'm a man of many talents," he said, smiling.

Kurt mentally agreed, before making a note to ask Mercedes of this was flirting or not. "So, you've baked before?"

Blaine glanced half-heartedly down at his shoes. "I didn't say that."

Kurt laughed and set the tin he was carrying down on the table. He, for the first time that day, really looked at the room. It had been done up overnight, to look painfully festive, with a Christmas tree in the corner wrapped tightly in tinsel, paper chains and strings of bells looped round the room, and even a small sprig of mistletoe dangling delicately from the doorframe. "Who did the room?" Kurt asked, awestruck.

Trent went very red at this, and Kurt and Blaine both turned to face him. "It was a few Warblers who had the idea..." He shrugged. "It seemed like a good one at the time."

"It was an excellent idea." Kurt could hear the admiration in his own voice and, for once, didn't mind it slipping out. "The room looks incredible."

Kurt was feeling more and more festive. Everyone tried his cakes – apart from a boy called Thom who was allergic to eggs, dairy, gluten, nuts, and a very specific ingredient in icing sugar – and raved about them, which improved his mood no end. Their teacher put on some Christmas albums and everyone cheered whenever it was a song that had been done at the Christmas fête (so every other song). Trent insisted that Kurt get up and dance, so Kurt insisted that Blaine get up and dance, and slowly the three of them walked through an adapted version of some Warbler choreography. Inevitably Blaine began singing under his breath, which then became louder, until Kurt joined in with an improvised harmony and Trent found a couple of chords to "ooh".

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,

But the very next day, you gave it away.

This year, to save me from tears,

I'll give it to someone special.

Was it coincidence that, just as he sang that line, Blaine turned and caught Kurt's eye? Kurt tried not to overthink it as he took the lead.

Once bitten, twice shy,

I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye.

Tell me baby, do you recognise me?

Well, it's been a year, it doesn't surprise.

It became more of a sing-along at that point, with many of their classmates joining in and only some knowing the lyrics. Kurt laughed and made his way to his desk, perching on the table rather than the chair. He was feeling rebellious.

"I thought we were done singing Christmas duets," Kurt joked as Blaine leant on the table next to him.

"It'd appear not," Blaine laughed. A boy called Ethan had brought in rum cake and they were both feeling the mild effects of it now. "Maybe some things are too good to stop doing."

Kurt looked at Blaine. His tie was slightly askew and he was a little flushed from the sudden movement. Kurt absently wondered how he himself looked – whether his new exfoliating face scrub was making a difference – and checked his hair with one hand.

"God, Kurt, not your hair again," Blaine chuckled. "It always looks amazing: will you please stop worrying?"

The matter-of-fact compliment threw Kurt. Blaine didn't seem to realise he'd said anything out of place, as he waited for a reply.

"Okay," Kurt stammered, his mind racing. It always looks amazing? Amazing? Always? What did that mean?

"Assembly, people!" their teacher announced, turning off the music, to the groans of the boys in the room. "Come on – you can leave your stuff and pick it up afterwards. But I'll be locking up, so don't leave it too late."

Blaine grinned at Kurt and pulled him by the sleeve out of the room. "To assembly!" he said, with what Kurt hoped was fake enthusiasm. He smiled all the same.

The assembly was brief and nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, Kurt headed back to home room relaxed and ready for bed. Blaine had mellowed out somewhat and two of them took their time collecting up all Kurt's cake tins.

"I still can't believe you made all these in one evening," Blaine commented, reaching under a table for one of the lids.

"It's a skill," Kurt agreed, "I grant you that." He smiled sadly. "My mum used to do it amazingly. These are all her old recipes."

Blaine caught Kurt's eye and walked round the table, squeezing him in a one-armed hug. The few remaining boys in the room had gone. Kurt wasn't sure if it was the rum cake or the quiet or Christmas but he suddenly felt teary.

"Should we go?" Kurt suggested.

Blaine smiled. "Alright." He picked up another two tins and headed to the door.

Kurt nearly dropped his second tin and paused to change his tin positioning. He glanced up to see Blaine loitering in the doorway. "Sorry," he said quickly.

"No, don't worry," Blaine responded, withheld laughter changing his voice.

"Shut up, Blaine," Kurt muttered good-naturedly, finally successfully holding both tins at once and walking to Blaine.

Blaine grinned cheekily. "So, we're meeting Trent, Hugo, Stefan.. and a few other people, I think – we thought we'd go to Breadstix."

Kurt nodded, leaning on the doorframe. "Good," he said.

At this point, there was a small tapping noise and a cloud of green and white fell on Blaine's head. "Hey!" he exclaimed, putting his tins down on a nearby shelf and grabbing the offending object. He laughed out loud, investigating it. "Oh my god," he chuckled. "It's the mistletoe."

Kurt's heart thudded against his ribcage. "Are you telling me," he said slowly, "that we were standing under the mistletoe?"

Blaine looked up sharply. He then seemed to try to look more relaxed and glanced up at the doorway. "I guess so," he answered, his eyes falling to his hands, which were playing with the bundle of mistletoe. "Does this mean we have to kiss?" he asked, his laughter more forced now.

Kurt was a stickler for holiday traditions, and he told Blaine so. "One year we didn't take our tree down on January the seventh, so I forced my dad to leave it up all year so we didn't get bad luck," he said.

Blaine was looking at Kurt. "So, what you're saying," he said slowly, "is that we have to kiss or we'll get bad luck?"

Kurt tried to slow his breathing. "I guess so," he answered quietly.

He'd never noticed just how quiet the room was, with Dalton's long corridor absorbing extraneous sounds. Or maybe it was just his brain blocking them out so he could focus on Blaine's brown eyes.

Without breaking eye contact with Blaine, Kurt rested his tins, on the table behind him. Despite them already being fairly close, Blaine took another step. Kurt took a breath. Their faces were inches apart. Blaine was looking at Kurt's mouth as if trying to work out the best way to approach it.

"You're sure about this?" Blaine asked. "Cos I don't want any bad luck."

Kurt almost laughed, tilting his head a bit closer to Blaine's.

He felt Blaine's nose brush his.

And then he felt Blaine's lips on his.

Kurt felt like exploding. His chest was tight and he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. His senses were in overdrive: he could feel Blaine so close to him, smell him, practically taste him. Blaine shifted a little and Kurt responded, breaking off the kiss for a moment before locking lips again. Kurt unconsciously traced a hand over Blaine's shoulder and felt Blaine's arm wind round his waist, pulling him closer.

Time passed – Kurt wasn't sure how much or how quickly – and finally they broke apart. Blaine leant his forehead against Kurt's for a moment, before opening his eyes. Kurt was breathless and thought his knees might give way.

"So, no Nargles in the mistletoe," Blaine said, grinning.

Kurt almost sighed. "Not everything needs a Harry Potter quote, Blaine." It had really spoiled the moment.

Blaine shrugged guiltily, before glancing at his watch. "Oh, we've gotta go!" he said urgently. He grabbed his three tins from the shelf and motioned for Kurt to do likewise before heading out the room.

Kurt reluctantly picked up his two tins – to be fair, he thought, they are bigger than Blaine's three – and followed.


	34. Chapter 34

Kissing Kurt had left Blaine in a muddle. He'd tried to behave normally through lunch at Breadstix, but once he'd got home he lay on his bed and thought. What did that kiss mean? Were they still friends? Were they boyfriends? Blaine sighed and put on the radio beside his bed, listening to the two hosts talking.

It had been under the mistletoe. It was tradition, right? It didn't have to mean anything. But somehow he didn't think that he could brush it off like that.

"How's it hanging, sport?" Blaine's dad – a tall, dark-haired man with Blaine's nose – had entered the room without knocking and now stood a few feet from Blaine's bed.

"Yeah, good," Blaine replied half-heartedly.

"You alright, son? You look like someone kicked you in the balls," his dad said.

Shouldn't dad talk about this kind of thing with their sons? Blaine was sure that his father's mood would turn sour very quickly if he found out about the kiss. He sat up and forced. "No, I'm fine," he said.

"Well, good." Mr Anderson sat down hard on the bed and punched Blaine in the arm. Blaine tried not to wince. "Hey, what say we go fishing again this weekend? There's a lovely lake only five hours' drive away that'd be just right this time of year."

Blaine sighed. "Dad, I don't like fishing."

"Of course you do! Do you remember how happy you were when you caught that haddock last year?"

"You caught that."

"Nonsense! You're being modest. Okay, I'll wake you bright and early in the morning to head off." Without letting Blaine get a word in, he stood up and headed to the door.

"Dad!" Blaine called, causing his father to stop. "Can I ask you something?"

Mr Anderson turned and looked expectantly at Blaine.

"Well..." Blaine began, licking his lips awkwardly. "Just say, like, hypothetically, that you... like someone. And then you kiss them under mistletoe. What should you do from there?"

Blaine's father narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. "Why are you asking?"

Panicking, Blaine replied, "it happened to my friend and he's asked me for advice."

"Which friend?"

"Um..." Blaine's head spun. "Kurt."

"I see." A pause. "Did this happen today?"

Blaine wasn't sure what to respond with. "Yes."

A longer pause. "At school?"

"Yes."

"Was he drunk?" A scathing tone had seeped into Blaine's father's voice.

"No, no."

"But this was him and... another boy."

"Yes."

Mr Anderson drew himself up to his full height and said, "well, Blaine, I'd suggest you end your friendship with such a character as soon as possible."

Blaine wasn't sure what to say. He looked down and nodded curtly.

"Right, well, I'm going to watch the match." Blaine's father opened the bedroom door, heading out of it. "I'll see you at dinner, champ."

"Yessir."

When the door had clicked shut, Blaine laid back down and sighed again. Well, that had been helpful.


	35. Chapter 35

"But what kind of kiss?" Rachel demanded.

Kurt could only shrug and sigh blissfully. "A perfect one," he breathed, letting himself fall sideways onto Mercedes.

Of course, Kurt had invited his girlfriends over for an emergency sleepover. They were all sitting on Kurt's bed in pyjamas. There was an empty pizza box in the bin again and they were holding mugs of cocoa. For the past hour, Kurt had been reminiscing about his kiss with Blaine, with appropriate hand-flapping gestures and sighs.

"But then Blaine acted completely normal?" confirmed Mercedes.

Kurt sat back up. "Yeah," he said, fiddling with his fingernails. "So, was it actually anything? Cos, you'd think, that if he thought it was, he'd act like it."

Rachel "hmm"ed importantly, tapping her chin. "Did you make it obvious to him that you thought it was something?"

Kurt thought for a moment, and frowned. "I – I guess not..."

Mercedes patted Kurt supportively on the shoulder. "So he was probably doing the same thing, trying to suss you out."

"I was going to day that he was probably just trying to be gentlemanly by kissing you, and stop the two of you getting bad luck."

"Jeez, thanks, Rachel. Way to kill my buzz," Kurt huffed.

Rachel held up her hands defensively. "Hey, you asked for my advice. I gave it."

Mercedes rubbed circles on Kurt's back while he sat with his head in his hands dejectedly. "So, what should I do?" he whined.

Mercedes and Rachel looked to each other blankly, both lost for suggestions.

Kurt glanced up and groaned. "Well, if Rachel can't come up with something, I'm doomed!"

Rachel shot a glare at Kurt, but caved quickly and moved around to sit next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Maybe we're all just fated to be tragic spinsters," Kurt suggested woefully. The girls "mmm"ed in agreement, and the three of them sighed collectively.

After a moment, Mercedes sat up straight. "No, no, no," she said. "We're not gonna just sit here and be sad. We're gonna forget about boys and forget about school and we're gonna think about Christmas and friends and having fun."

Kurt looked up reluctantly. "But I'm wallowing," he whinged.

"Well, stop it, Hummel!" Mercedes cried. She pulled out her phone, selected something and put it down on the bed. Kurt couldn't help smiling when he heard the music start.

I've gotta feeling

That tonight's gonna be a good night

That tonight's gonna be a good night

That tonight's gonna be a good, good night.

Kurt rolled his eyes and came in with the next part.

I've gotta feeling

That tonight's gonna be a good night

That tonight's gonna be a good night

That tonight's gonna be a good, good night.

Surprisingly, Rachel seemed willing just to "ooh" and harmonise.

Tonight's the night

Let's live it up

I've got my money

Let's spend it up

Go out and smash it

Like oh my god

Jump off that sofa

Let's get – get off

They were bopping now, with Kurt and Mercedes swaying hand-in-hand and laughing. Rachel was shimmying happily, perched on the bed.

Cos I've gotta feeling

That tonight's gonna be a good night

That tonight's gonna be a good night

That tonight's gonna be a good, good night.

Here we come

Here we go

We've gotta rock

Easy come

Easy go

Now we're on top

Feel the shot

Body rock

Rock it, don't stop

Round and round

Up and down

Around the clock

Cos I've gotta feeling

That tonight's gonna be a good night

That tonight's gonna be a good night

That tonight's gonna be a good, good night.

The song ended with Rachel's "ooh" and the three of them beamed at each other.

"Okay, forgetting about boys and school," Kurt said, caving.

"Thank you!" Mercedes grinned. "Now, can we please go and watch a musical?"

"Ooh, I'm always up for 'Moulin Rouge'," Rachel said hopefully.

Kurt sighed. "Alright, fine," he smiled. "But, Rachel, you're forbidden to sing along."


	36. Chapter 36

Cooper Anderson picked up his phone of the fifth ring. "Blaine!" he said. "Hey, little brother, how's it going?"

Blaine smiled, grateful to hear his brother's voice. "Hey, Coop."

There was a short pause. "What's up?" Cooper asked, concerned.

"I – " Blaine swallowed and sighed. "I miss you," he said stupidly, cursing himself for sounding like a three-year-old.

"Well, I miss you too." Blaine could hear the condescension creeping into his brother's voice. "Um," Cooper began, evidently tired of Blaine's sentimentality, "listen, I'm sort of in the middle of something, so..."

"I did something really stupid," Blaine interrupted, closing his eyes tightly.

Cooper was silent for a moment. "Are you okay?" he asked seriously.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Blaine said quickly.

"So no-one's in hospital?"

"No, Coop."

"And you didn't break any of my stuff?"

"No." Blaine half-smiled.

"So, what happened?"

Blaine sighed again. "I... I kissed one of my best friends under the mistletoe. But... I really like – "

"Woah, Blaine!" Cooper exclaimed. "Gettin' some action!"

"Cooper, I don't need this," Blaine moaned. "Can you just help me out?"

"Right, okay, sorry," came the reply. "What did you want advice on?"

"Well, what do I do now?" Blaine rubbed his eyes and puffed out his cheeks. "I don't even know if he likes me back – "

"You didn't try talking to Dad, did you?" Blaine's silence told him all he needed to know. "Damn, Blaine. This has messed you up, hasn't it?"

Blaine laughed nervously. "Look, it was a kiss under the mistletoe: I just need to know what that means."

"How did you play it afterwards?"

"Gah, um, friendly?"

Cooper's hiss came through as static. "I think you've friendzoned him, bro."

"What? No, I haven't," Blaine replied, his stomach twisting in a nervous panic. "That's not even a thing."

"Oh, yes, it is," Cooper retorted, "and you've done it."

"Well, then, how do I undo it?" Blaine cried desperately.

"Jeez, bro, I dunno," Cooper sniffed. "You pray, I guess."

Blaine groaned and collapsed in a heap on his bed, burying his face frustratedly in his pillow and running a hand over his hair. "Well, do you have anything helpful to say to me?" he moaned.

Cooper laughed, but sympathetically. "Maybe just try to get over him, Blaine. Which one of your friends even is this, anyway?"

"You don't know him," Blaine answered quickly. "He transferred last month to Dalton."

"Last month?" Cooper repeated incredulously. "What does this guy have over you?"

Blaine sighed. "I don't know, Kurt's just..."

"Kurt, hmm?"

"Yeah. Kurt."

"Well, if Kurt doesn't say anything, he's probably not into you," Cooper said matter-of-factly. "Unless – is he the boy? I was assuming he was the girl."

Blaine closed his eyes again, but this time in a painful cringe. "Cooper, we're both boys."

"No, I know, but – "

"No, you don't! That isn't how it works," Blaine interrupted. "God, you always come out with crap like this!"

"Woah!" Cooper sounded hurt. "It's just a simple question, Blaine."

"And it's just a simple answer, Coop, that I've told you enough times: that I am gay, and I like boys, and so neither of us is a girl!" Blaine hung up before he yelled too loudly, and resisted the urge to throw his phone across the room in frustration. He growled angrily and turned around on his bed, to see his father filling his doorway.

Blaine hoped against hope that Mr Anderson had forgotten their conversation four days previously, and worried how much he'd heard.

"Hi, Dad," he choked out eventually.

Blaine's dad looked furious. "What was that?" he asked quietly.

Swallowing, Blaine lowered his gaze. "What was what?"

"Who were you on the phone to?"

"Cooper."

"You talk to your brother like that?" Blaine blankly wondered where this was going. "Your elder brother, and you talk to him like that?"

Blaine shrugged, feeling that he could hardly deny it.

"Do you really think you have the right to talk to your elder brother like that?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows, annoyed. "If he deserves it."

Now it was Blaine's father's turn to look put out. "And did he?"

"Yes."

"And why is that?" Mr Anderson asked derisively.

"He offended me," Blaine replied, sure that that was a safe answer.

"How so?"

"He..." Blaine knew his dad knew that he was gay, but also knew that he tried to avoid that fact as much as possible. They hadn't spoken for two weeks after Blaine came out. He didn't know what to say. "He consistently says something that he knows offends me."

"What?"

Was Blaine's dad looking for an argument? Why was he pushing this?

Blaine took a breath. Well, he'd asked, so Blaine would tell him. "He asked me who was the 'girl' in a gay relationship," he explained. "I've corrected him on this before and he knows it annoys me – "

Mr Anderson suddenly marched over to Blaine and stood over him. "How dare you," he said quietly. "I've talked about this, boy; you don't just fling that word around like it doesn't mean anything! Not in my house."

Blaine swallowed. He was scared of his dad – more scared than he'd admit. "Well, that was what it was, anyway," he finished lamely.

"And does that matter enough to disrespect your elder brother?"

Blaine opened his mouth, then promptly closed it and looked at the floor. "No, sir," he mumbled. He could argue with his father. He just couldn't. Not again.

Mr Anderson seemed satisfied by this. "Alright," he said, before stiffly leaving the room.

Blaine breathed a sigh of relief. He'd been worried it was going to be a lot worse than that. He fell back on his pillow and lay there, eyes closed, breathing deeply. He didn't look forward to the inevitable day that everything bubbled over and they had a screaming match. But at least it wasn't today.


	37. Chapter 37

Christmas was an extremely festive affair for the Hudson-Hummels. Kurt had, of course, been in charge of decorating, cooking, and event planning, with Carole giving as much help as possible and Burt and Finn just trying to stay out of the way. Fortunately, though, everything had worked perfectly and on Christmas Day the four of them were sat around the dining table enjoying pigs-in-blankets and creamed potatoes ("no, Dad, they're not the same thing as mashed potatoes!") and sprouts and everything else Kurt could dream up to cook. Finn was finishing off the pitcher of mulled wine with such praise for it that Kurt didn't mind only getting one glass.

For the time being, Kurt had managed to dismiss his kiss with Blaine from his mind (although was still having dreams about it that left him feeling more vulnerable than he'd like) and was enjoying spending more time with his family and friends from McKinley.

Rachel and Finn had broken up at the end of the semester, but Kurt was regrettably still having to console both of them. His efforts to get Finn talking to him after a glass of warm milk had finally borne fruit, but not in the way he'd have liked. That night, though, he valiantly entered Finn's room with two cups of milk and offered Finn one.

"Thanks, man," Finn said gratefully – as though reminding himself of his gender would make this feel less girly.

"You're welcome," Kurt smiled, perching on Finn's desk chair. He perched because Finn's room was surprisingly messy and he questioned the hygiene of the seat. "So, you alright?"

Finn had definitely had too much mulled wine, because he didn't seem as put out by the question as he normally did. "Yeah, I guess," he replied. "But Rachel's been on my mind again."

"Really," Kurt asked with absolutely no conviction.

"She has. And I'm thinking, should I have broken up with her? Cos I thought I should, so I did, but..." He trailed off and looked curiously at Kurt. "I am getting the weirdest feeling of dé_jà vu."_

_"__Hmm, weird." Kurt wasn't sure if Finn could tell just how sarcastic he was being, tracing his finger over the rim of his glass._

_Finn shrugged. "Are you alright, Kurt? You always ask me, but I never ask you."_

_"__Sure I am." Kurt smiled, but he knew he was lying and he didn't like lying to Finn. "Well... I don't know."_

_"__What's up?"_

_Kurt sighed. "I..." He paused. "If I told you something, would you promise to not tell anyone?"_

_"__Of course." He may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but Kurt knew that Finn was, above everything, a man of his word. Well, most of the time._

_"__Okay." Kurt wasn't sure how to say it. "Well, at school at the end of last semester, it turns out Blaine and I were standing under the mistletoe," he explained, looking up at Finn._

_Finn paused. "What's mistletoe again? The red berries or the white ones?"_

_"__The white ones," Kurt answered quickly. "You're supposed to kiss under it?" he prompted._

_"__Oh. Oh, wow," said Finn, nodding. "So, did you kiss him?"_

_Kurt nodded. "Yeah. I did," he responded, feeling butterflies in his stomach from the memory._

_"__Oh, congrats, Kurt!" Finn broke out in a smile, but there was relief in his voice. Kurt supposed he must still be a little awkward after Kurt's crush on him last year. He almost cringed at the thought._

_"__Yeah, it was great," he gushed, then stopped himself. He didn't want to weird Finn out. "My problem is: what's the protocol from here?"_

_Finn looked confused again. "What do you mean?"_

_"__I mean, did that kiss necessarily mean that Blaine likes me? Or just that he felt obliged because you're supposed to kiss under mistletoe?"_

_"__Look, Kurt," Finn began uncertainly. "I don't know the answers to your questions, but I don't know any guy who'd kiss another guy just to be polite. Now, I know I don't really know Blaine," he added, as Kurt opened his mouth to object, "but that's all I can really think to say about it. Sorry."_

_Kurt nodded slowly. "Well, you've been more help than Mercedes and – " he coughed " – just Mercedes. No-one else. Just Mercedes."_

_Finn smiled proudly. "Ah, well, you're welcome, Kurt." He finished his milk and tried to look pointedly at the door to insinuate that Kurt should go. Luckily, Kurt took the hint and left, feeling slightly better and pleased that he and Finn had bonded._


	38. Chapter 38

School seemed to return far too quickly, and Blaine was still in holiday mode when he ambled into home room on the frosty January morning of the first day back. His dad had been being very off with him ever since their talk and Blaine had decided to swear off dating until he felt he was ready to handle his father's wrath on the subject. Which was why it threw him so much to see Kurt in home room before him. He glanced up sleepily to Kurt's gaze and immediately felt mildly sick.

"Morning, Kurt," he said, trying to keep his tone even.

"Blaine," Kurt responded quickly, "can I talk to you?"

Blaine looked at Kurt and tried to figure out the nature of the talk. "What about?" he asked casually.

"I think you know what about, Blaine," Kurt replied, not looking much more comfortable than Blaine felt.

"Okay, Kurt," Blaine nodded, feeling his stomach twisting in painful knots. He was going to have to have this conversation at some point anyway.

Kurt looked surprised that Blaine had agreed so easily. "Well..." He sighed, and then spoke very quickly, as if he were trying to get the words out as fast as possible. "We kissed under the mistletoe, and I wanted to verify what that means for our – our friendship..." He trailed off and raised his eyes to meet Blaine's.

Blaine looked away awkwardly. He had no idea what to say, and Kurt had become impossible to read. "Look, Kurt," he began, lifting his gaze back to his friend. "I don't want to screw up what we've got."

Kurt seemed to want to protest more passionately than he did. "But it wouldn't – necessarily – "

"I think it would," Blaine argued, rubbing his eyes. "Look, can we just – I mean, for now – sort of act like it never happened?" He felt terrible saying it, and wanted to add that it wasn't because he didn't want to kiss him, but decided against saying anything else.

Kurt looked heartbroken. He didn't really react for a moment, before nodding stiffly and sitting down quickly in his chair, opening his bag and making a scene of rummaging inside it for something.

Blaine felt terrible, and worse than that, he knew now that Kurt liked him – and he'd blown it. "Kurt," he said apologetically.

"No, I'm fine, I get it," Kurt sniffed, keeping his eyes down.

"No, you don't, Kurt, I'm sorry; I don't mean – I just – I didn't – "

But Kurt seemed intent on being as unresponsive as possible, and eventually Blaine sat back in his seat and closed his eyes in defeat, furious with himself. After a few minutes, Trent entered the room and plonked himself down next to Blaine.

"Hey, Blaine!" he said cheerily. "How was your holiday?"

Blaine sighed and looked at his friend. "Yeah, it was fine," he said distractedly. "Yours?"

"It was brilliant," Trent replied enthusiastically. "My sister and her husband came to visit from Iowa; I saw my niece again, she's grown about a foot – are you okay?"

Blaine glanced up and realised that he had turned his head towards Kurt, completely (and accidentally) blocking Trent out. "Sorry," he said, and frowned.

"What's up?" Trent asked anxiously. "You look like you're about to cry."

That sounded about right. He and Kurt were practically mirroring each other's faces, both stuck in seemingly hopeless despair.

"I'm fine," Blaine nodded, trying more to convince himself than Trent and not managing either.

At this point, Trent seemed to pick up on the obvious tension between Blaine and Kurt. "Have you two had a fight?" he asked, more quietly.

"No," Blaine answered quickly. "Well – yes. Sort of... I don't even know."

Trent sighed and looked past Blaine at Kurt. "How was your holiday, Kurt?"

Kurt "mmhmm"ed a 'yes' and then cleared his throat and said primly, "fine," before going back to the book he'd gotten out and started reading.

Blaine raised his eyebrows as if to say, "see?". Trent shook his head, hardly believing what he was seeing. "What happened?" he asked, wide-eyed.

Blaine opened his mouth to respond before promptly shutting it again. He couldn't tell Trent. "We had a... misunderstanding," he replied eventually. "Sorry, Trent, I don't think I can tell you," he added quickly when Trent made to speak again. "It's kind of private."

Trent looked hurt when Blaine said that: they'd never needed to keep secrets before. But he regained his composure and nodded, smiling supportively. "Well, I'm always here for you, Blaine. You know that," he said simply, patting his friend's arm. "Let me know if you ever want to talk about it."

Blaine nodded in return, feeling slightly better and extremely glad that Trent hadn't taken offence. "Thank you," he responded weakly, to which Trent just smiled.

Kurt remained silent for the rest of home room, speaking only in response to their tutor calling his name. When they got up to go to class, Kurt swung his satchel on to his shoulder and was out the door in one swift movement, leaving Blaine and Trent still sitting in their seats.

"Wow, Blaine, you must have done something really bad," Trent said quietly.

Blaine rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. What was he supposed to do?


	39. Chapter 39

It wasn't so much that Kurt was angry with Blaine; he was just angry with himself and the fool he'd made of himself. Plus, he didn't feel like he could talk to – or even look at – Blaine without crying and begging for Blaine to love him. And now, Blaine knew Kurt liked him, there was maybe a 0.2% chance of them going back to being friends and that killed Kurt.

But then, why had Blaine kissed him? Because he's a gentleman? Somehow that didn't strike Kurt as being right. Blaine was a pure knight in shining armour but Kurt doubted that Blaine would think kissing someone as chivalrous. And he knew all about the drama with Karofsky – he knew that Kurt thought that a kiss was something special. Why kiss him if he just wanted to be friends?

Stop it, he told himself. Overthinking never helps and it's hardly going to change anything. Blaine wants to be friends and now you've made yourself look like an idiot. That's all there is to it.

Could he go back to just being friends with Blaine? Not after this. Definitely not after this. He'd die of shame.

Kurt sighed and rubbed his eyes, before resuming his staring match with the tree opposite. He'd been sitting in the memorial garden for half an hour: he hadn't been hungry enough to risk the cafeteria and seeing Blaine, and he'd needed time to think, anyway.

"I thought I'd find you here." Kurt looked up and his heart rose at the same moment that his stomach plummeted into his feet. Blaine stood in front of him, hands deep in his blazer pockets and breath misting in front of his face.

"Did you?" Kurt asked hoarsely, only now starting to shiver in the cold. The snow on the paths and benches had been cleared but it still clung to the trees, grass and flowers, making everything sparkly.

"Well, no," Blaine answered, lowering his gaze. "I went to the Warblers' hall first, because I didn't think you were planning on freezing yourself to death." He smiled slightly and looked up.

Kurt shrugged. "I didn't think anyone would be out here. In the Warblers' hall, there's always the chance that Wes will walk in."

Blaine nodded understandingly. "That is a risk," he agreed, "but, even so, aren't you cold? We should go inside."

Kurt was avoiding looking Blaine in the eye and felt his friend's gaze hot on his face. "No, I'm alright."

"No, you're not, Kurt – you're shivering! Please just tell me what is so wrong – why can't we be friends again?"

"Because," Kurt replied sharply, feeling a lump form in his throat, "I don't understand why you'd kiss me if you just wanted to be friends!"

He heard Blaine pause, heard his intake of breath. "That's kind of personal, Kurt," he said quietly.

Kurt stared determinedly at Blaine's shoes rather than his face. "Why?"

Blaine walked over and sat down on the bench, keeping about a foot between himself and Kurt. "Look, you're freezing," he said. "You've got to warm up, you'll get pneumonia or something."

Kurt pulled his blazer slightly tighter around him and tried to stop his teeth chattering.

"C'mon, Kurt, don't be an idiot, please," Blaine persisted. "You've been out here for ages; it's not good for you."

Kurt was about to respond that he wasn't an idiot when he felt Blaine move closer and wrap an arm around him – a warm, solid arm that Kurt immediately wanted to cling on to and never let go. Blaine put both his arms around Kurt's shoulders and made a stab at wrapping his blazer around him too. "See, you're shivering," he said, sounding desperate.

Kurt knew Blaine was right, knew there was nothing noble about sitting around in the snow freezing to death because he felt like sulking. But he didn't want to know. Without realising, he leaned into Blaine, felt the heat of Blaine's body against the cold of his own and began to feel infinitely better.

"Come on," Blaine said, and Kurt felt Blaine's hand against his back, guiding him to stand up and move back into the warmth of the Dalton buildings. He complied without comment, mostly because he was freezing and he didn't know what to say.

Once they'd sat down in home room – which was surprisingly, miraculously, empty – Blaine began to rub some feeling back into Kurt's arms and Kurt let him. Finally, Blaine sat down in front of Kurt and looked him straight in the face. Kurt kept his eyes down.

"Kurt," Blaine said authoritatively. "Kurt," he repeated when Kurt didn't respond. "Kurt, look at me," he said, the tiniest shred of desperation creeping into his voice.

Kurt raised his gaze and found himself looking into Blaine's eyes for what felt like the first time in ages. "Yes?" he said quietly.

"Please, can we stop this?" Blaine asked. "Please, can we just be friends again?"

Kurt hardly remembered saying "yes" before he flung his arms around Blaine and held him tight. He didn't care that he'd acted like a moron earlier. He didn't care that Blaine didn't want a relationship. He didn't even care that Wes could walk into the room with a Warblers-related issue for Blaine at any moment. All he cared about was Blaine and him, being friends. And that was all that seemed to matter.


	40. Chapter 40

Blaine was back on top of the world. He thought that, although his and Kurt's dispute last maybe four hours, that they'd both learnt from the experience and that their relationship was stronger than ever. Trent had easily picked up on the change of atmosphere in home room when he'd walked in and a smile, nod and wink from Blaine was all he'd needed to know that the problem was solved.

At home, Blaine dumped his bag in the hall, forgot his homework and sprawled out on the sofa. It was a moment before he realised he wasn't – as he had assumed – alone in the house. He turned his head as his father entered the room and stiffly took the armchair opposite, before quickly tidying up his own posture. "Hey, Dad," Blaine said pleasantly. "You're home early."

"The boiler exploded," Mr Anderson explained gruffly. "We all got the afternoon off."

"Oh." Blaine wasn't sure what else to say, so they fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"How are your friends doing?" Mr Anderson asked casually. "Did they enjoy their holidays?"

"Yeah," Blaine nodded, grateful that the conversation had moved on. "Trent's sister and husband same to stay from Iowa; he saw his niece again, and apparently she's grown about a foot." He swallowed and took a breath, before carrying on: "Kurt single-handedly prepared all of the food and decorations for his whole family, I'm led to believe – and I do, if Kurt's track record is anything to go by – "

"Kurt?" Blaine saw his father's nostrils flare and paused. "Kurt, that you were talking to me about?"

Internally cursing himself for even mentioning Kurt to his father in the first place, Blaine nodded slowly. "Yes," he said, his throat dry.

"Did you not take my advice?" Mr Anderson said coldly. To Blaine, 'advice' was the wrong word.

Blaine shook his head. "I didn't stop being friends with Kurt, Dad, no." He forced himself to look his father in the face. "He didn't do anything wrong, and he's one of my best – "

"Didn't do anything wrong?" Mr Anderson repeated incredulously. "He's going around kissing – " He lowered his voice suddenly, but the fury behind his eyes spoke in greater volumes than ever. "He's not a good influence," he finished forcefully.

Blaine almost laughed out loud in disbelief. Was this his father's opinion of Kurt? No. It was his father's opinion of him. "Yes, he is," Blaine argued. "He works harder than anyone else I know, he's incredibly talented, he's brave, and clever, and passionate and – " He tried to swallow his next word when he realised that it was "perfect". In the end, it came out as a sort of hum. He tried to make it sound deliberate. "And none of that's changed," he added, to distract from his stumble, "because he kissed another boy."

"You are too young to understand this kind of thing!" Mr Anderson bellowed. "Yes, okay, fine, maybe in high school, 'experimenting' is deemed acceptable. Maybe it's even encouraged, I don't know. But out there – " he pointed at the window, as if some great homophobic monster hovered just outside " – out there, people like – like that – are not taken seriously, much less are treated as equals!"

There was a pause.

Blaine frowned. "Is that really what you believe?" he asked quietly.

"I'm going to go have a drink," Mr Anderson snapped, standing up.

"Dad!" Blaine leapt into the doorway. "The world's changed; gay people aren't – we're not treated like that anymore. I mean, gay marriage is sort of in the works, people are more accepting of us!" He threw his arms wide to help make his point. "And I am so grateful for that. So you've not got anything to worry about."

It took a moment for Blaine to realise he'd overstepped. His father approached him as a lion stalks its prey. "We?" he echoed. "Us?" He grimaced.

Blaine took a breath, trying to work out the best way to get out of the conversation unscathed. But he never thought of one: all of a sudden, a fist came shooting towards him, catching him on the jaw and sending him sprawling in surprise. After the moment it took him to come to his senses, he heard a muttered "no son of mine" and slam of the front door.

Tears pricked at Blaine's eyes and he let them fall, choking out a sob. He pulled himself to his feet and massaged the side of his face, sniffing miserably. He would never figure his father out, and his father would never accept him.


	41. Chapter 41

Blaine was surprisingly quiet the next day at school. Kurt had assumed that, now that they'd officially sorted their problems and were friends again, Blaine and he would be getting on as normal. Thus, it caught him off-guard when Blaine shuffled into home room late the next day and slid into his seat without a word. He sat with his head in his hands, and Kurt felt that Blaine blocking the view of his face was deliberate.

Kurt cautiously tucked his legs under his chair and leant forward. "What's wrong?" he asked anxiously.

Blaine's response of "nothing" was exceptionally forced.

Swallowing his frustration and worry, Kurt reached out a hand to rub Blaine's shoulder comfortingly. He shrank back when Blaine recoiled. "What have I done?" Kurt's mind was racing to pinpoint the moment he'd offended his friend.

Again, Kurt was met with an unconvincing "nothing".

"Blaine, you're started to worry me," Kurt said, hearing the fear in his voice.

At this, Blaine's honey-brown eyes appeared over his fingertips, wide and puffy. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Kurt frowned. "What for?" he asked quietly. "You haven't done anything." Despite his outward coolness, he was already plotting the murder of whomever had made Blaine cry.

Blaine lowered his hands, and Kurt gasped in horror. A big, purple bruise shadowed Blaine's jaw, curling round under his chin. "What happened?" Kurt whispered through the hand he didn't notice he had over his mouth.

"My dad happened," Blaine replied, his voice cracking on the word "dad". He tried to laugh and brush it off airily.

"Blaine," Kurt said. It wasn't to address him, or get his attention – it was just to comfort himself that Blaine was still here, still him, still perfect. "Oh, Blaine." Kurt felt his eyes tear up and reached for Blaine, pulling him close in a gratefully accepted hug. His head buried in Blaine's shoulder, he could hear Blaine's tiny sniffs, feel Blaine's shoulders shake.

"Why did he do it?" Kurt asked into Blaine's blazer.

Blaine paused. "We disagreed on something."

"What?"

"Whether I'm gay or not."

Kurt groaned sympathetically, feeling his stomach twist with anger. "I'm so sorry, Blaine."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about, Kurt," Blaine said, leaning out of the hug and looking Kurt in the eye. "I'm fine, okay?"

"No, you're not, Blaine."

"Well, that's my problem. You don't need to let it worry you."

"It will worry me," Kurt argued earnestly. "Whether I want it to or not."

Blaine lowered his gaze to the floor for a moment. "It's okay. You went through much worse at McKinley and you didn't have anyone looking out for you there."

"That's not the point!" Kurt carefully raised a hand to Blaine's jaw, gently brushing over the mark. "It's not fair," he said tearfully. "This shouldn't happen – not to you."

Blaine cleared his throat and grabbed Kurt's hand bringing it down to the table. "There's nothing we can do about it now. And, hey, I know at least to not antagonise my dad."

Kurt blinked and shook his head in disbelief, allowing his tears to fall. Blaine wiped them away with the corner of his blazer sleeve. "Don't worry about me, Kurt," he insisted, "please."

Taking a shaky breath, Kurt said, "but if it ever happens again – "

"I'll be on the first bus to your house, alright? I promise." Blaine nodded assuringly.

It hurt Kurt in too many ways to list to agree to condemning Blaine to a life of fear and potential assault, but, if Blaine was so certain he'd be okay, he didn't feel that he could do anything about it. He gave Blaine another quick hug before the bell went and their teacher began talking.


	42. Chapter 42

Thankfully, no-one other than Kurt asked Blaine how he'd got his bruise. Being asked about it wasn't anything he couldn't deal with, but he didn't want to draw attention to it or have to lie to anyone. Plus, he'd never walked into a door before in his life.

By the time the end-of-day Warblers meeting came around, Blaine was feeling pretty good, despite the slow start to the day. He settled onto the sofa next to Kurt, who beamed in greeting at him. Next to him, Blaine saw Hugo's eyes trace over his bruise, but he smiled a hello and said nothing. Stefan sufficed with a small wave.

"Welcome back, Warblers!" Wes shouted, motioning for silence with his hands. A hush fell over the room as he continued. "We've got Regionals to work towards this semester, so I hope you're all pumped and ready to go!" This was met with a few cheers and a smattering of applause.

As there was no real structure for the meeting, it finished after a pep talk and quick song brainstorm. Afterwards, Blaine walked out to Kurt's car with him.

"You could come round to mine if you want," Kurt was suggesting feebly. "My dad likes you; you're welcome anytime, without fear of being shot. His gun's more for show anyway."

Blaine laughed. "I'm fine, Kurt. I'll see you tomorrow." He walked away as Kurt climbed into his car, waving a goodbye.

When he arrived home, Blaine called out to the empty house, checking there was no-one else there. Satisfied that he was alone, he set himself up in an armchair, drink in hand and lifestyle on TV. Curling up one leg underneath him, he imagined Kurt's snide comments to the women on the show and found himself smiling. He almost thought about texting his friend, but dismissed the idea. It'd just make Kurt worry.

He felt a buzzing in his pocket, and pulled his phone out his blazer and smiled, frowning. Speak of the devil...

Blaine accepted the call. "Kurt!" he said pleasantly.

He was startled when a sob came down the line. "Blaine."


	43. Chapter 43

Kurt was enjoying the new freedom that hid dad had agreed to give him. Although he missed talking through his day on the way home, his sense of independence as he pulled onto the road made it all worthwhile.

He sang along to the radio as he drove, rolling down the window and feeling the blast of cold air rush past him into the car.

Burt not picking him up had helped the tyre shop, too. Because he didn't have to be at Dalton, Kurt's dad could work later at the garage, and Finn could help out (with Burt's supervision). That helped ease Kurt's guilty conscience a little about his dad forking out the Dalton fees. One day, he promised, he'd send Burt and Carole on the world's best honeymoon. Of course, with all this and Carole's up-in-the-air work schedule, Kurt was still getting used to being the only one in when he arrived home. But he could live with it.

Parking in the driveway, Kurt turned off the radio, shut the window and checked his hair before climbing out of the car. He had only just shut the door and locked the car before he was ambushed by a huge mass of red and thrown back against the vehicle. Gasping in surprise, Kurt heard his body thump hard against it before the wave of pain whipped up his spine. Blinking to clear his eyes of stars, Kurt shrank back instinctively against his car, tensing in anticipation of the incoming blows.

After a moment, Kurt glanced up at his attacker, his eyes focusing on the red McKinley letterman jacket before flicking up to the face of Dave Karofsky.

Kurt swallowed. Yes, he was scared of Karofsky, of course he was, but this was getting old. It had been two months since he'd transferred, so why couldn't Karofsky just get over it? There were surely plenty of other kids at McKinley that he could terrorise, so what made Kurt worth all this extra effort?

There was a pause. "What do you want here, Karofsky?" Kurt asked quietly, not quite meeting his gaze.

Karofsky looked surprised for a moment. "I wanna catch you up on what you're missing, Hummel," he replied threateningly, raising a fist.

"No, you don't," Kurt said, playing for time, "because if you did, you'd already be hitting me. So what do you want?"

There seemed to almost be two sides of Karofsky, fighting it out in his brain. On the one hand, he was the same scary jock he always had been, suggesting a slushie facial or dumpster toss; on the other hand, he looked like he wasn't even sure what he was doing here, like he'd suddenly blinked and found himself on the corner of Kurt's street. Unfortunately, this new side submitted pretty quickly.

A fist connected with the side of Kurt's face before he had time to shout out, throwing him sideways into the car. He clutched at the roof and tried to get the world to stop spinning, but an elbow to the stomach had the ground flip out from under him and crunch under his hands. Gasping for breath that wouldn't come, Kurt curled up under the hail of blows that followed. His vision blurred and blacked out at the edges, so he shut his eyes, trying to tense up against the kicked and almost hearing his body screaming in pain. He tried to do the same but it came out as a quiet "ah!" as another kick met his stomach, causing his to curl up tighter, his fingers clutching desperately at his knees. Then came an end to the blows, and an odd silence. Kurt didn't trust himself to move, so just lay in his foetal position, eyes squeezed shut and knuckles white, a thousand bruises itching to form and blood trickling from his nose and various cuts on his hands and face from the gravel.

A minute later, he heard footsteps walking away from across an ocean.

It hurt to move. It hurt to lie still. It hurt to breathe but it hurt more if he didn't.

Kurt foggily thought that he should get inside. Inside had sofas and warmth and no Karofsky. Fighting for breath, Kurt rolled onto his front, crying out as his shins took his weight and his core tensed, and wincing when he put down his hands to push himself up onto his feet. His knees felt shaky as they supported him, but the moment he stood up his head swam and they buckled underneath him. Kurt let out a sob, not even realising that he had tears mixing with the sweat and blood on his face. He ended up sitting, leaning back against his car door. He could barely move – how was he supposed to walk to his front door in this state?

He forced his numb fingers into his blazer pocket, dropping his phone into his lap and drunkenly finding the right number. He held the phone to his ear with both hands, wincing at the tiny movement.

"Kurt!"

"Blaine." Just hearing his friend's voice had refuelled Kurt's hope. The pain in his chest eased a little, and he gasped for air as he found himself crying. How pathetic he must look.

"Kurt, what's wrong? What's happened?" Blaine's voice had become concerned and Kurt could almost see him lean forward, frowning.

Kurt was feeling light-headed and he couldn't think what to say. "I need help," he choked out weakly.

"Are you home?" Kurt could hear Blaine move as he spoke. Coming to rescue him, Kurt thought blearily.

"I'm outside my house," he answered. He coughed, and movement caused him to hiss in pain.

"What happened, Kurt?" It sounded as though Blaine was trying to be calmer than he was.

Kurt's brain was fuzzy. It hurt to think too hard and everything was aching anyway. "Um..." He sniffed and wiped his nose only to see the blood on his hand. "I'm bleeding."

"Oh my god, Kurt, did you get hit by a car?"

"No, no," Kurt replied immediately. Well, it felt like immediately. But, come to think of it, he was leaning on a car. He certainly felt like he'd been hit by a car. He couldn't get the details straight in his muggy mind. "But I got hit..." By something? Someone? He couldn't think, couldn't work it all out. "Blaine," he murmured weakly. "It hurts."

"What hurts?" Blaine sounded far away. Why was that. It took a moment for Kurt to realise he'd dropped his phone. It lay sadly by his hip.

"Everything," Kurt groaned quietly. "Blaine." The name rolled off his tongue; he could barely think, he when he did, that was what he thought of. If he was going to die, it'd be saying Blaine's name.

"Kurt," came the persistently desperate reply. "You've gotta stay conscious, yeah?"

"Yep," Kurt agreed. God, Blaine's voice was like velvet, even over the phone. "Blaine."

"What is it, Kurt?"

"Nothing. Just... Blaine." Kurt hummed the name.

"Kurt. Stay with me, Kurt."

"Always." Of course Kurt would stay with him. What a dumb thing to say.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay." Kurt's body felt heavy.

"Stay awake, alright? Don't – "

Everything blurred. When Kurt opened his eyes again, the sun had gone in and it was darker. Night fell very quickly in January, he mused. He couldn't really feel his body and it hurt like hell. He hadn't been hit by a bus, had he? That would be embarrassing.

"Kurt! Kurt!" There were footsteps. Quick, light ones, running towards him.

As the footsteps got closer, he recognised the voice. "Blaine." His throat was dry and the name came out croaky.

"Oh, god, Kurt, oh my god..."

"Blaine."


	44. Chapter 44

Kurt's hands reached out and Blaine clutched at them desperately. They were freezing, and Blaine tried to rub some warmth into them. The moment Kurt had stopped responding, Blaine had hung up and dialled 911, giving them Kurt's address but saying he didn't know what had happened.

Kurt's eyes were open, but they looked glassy as they stared into Blaine's.

"Kurt, oh my – what happened?" Blaine cupped Kurt's jaw in his hand and took in his swollen eye, bloody nose, bruised cheek, split lip. He felt tears pricking at his eyes. "What happened, Kurt?" he asked again, hearing his closeness to crying in his voice. "Kurt, please say something. Please, please say something." He looked Kurt in the eyes again, holding his head with both hands now.

He almost cried with relief when Kurt's eyes swam back into focus and he was met with a small smile and a whispered, "Blaine." He forced a deep breath and pressed his forehead into Kurt's, pulling away and apologising when Kurt cried out from the movement.

Where the hell was the ambulance? He considered calling again. Was that how it worked?

"Blaine." Kurt caught one of Blaine's hands and held it between both of his tightly. He reminded Blaine of a child who's learnt a new word and won't stop saying it.

"Yeah, I'm here, Kurt." Blaine shuffled so he was knelt down right next to Kurt, one hand in Kurt's and the other tracing carefully over Kurt's jaw. "Do you remember what happened?"

After a pause, Kurt responded. "Karofsky."

Blaine shut his eyes tightly, swallowing. He knew it. When he saw Karofsky again, oh boy...

"There's an ambulance coming, Kurt," he said, resting his hand carefully against Kurt's neck.

"You called an ambulance?" Thankfully, Kurt seemed to be coherent enough again. "You didn't have to..."

"Don't be silly; of course I did," Blaine replied firmly.

Kurt opened his mouth as if to say something else, but promptly shut it again.

Blaine had no clue what to say, but thought he should keep Kurt talking. It was a miracle he seemed okay after passing out once.

"Did Karofsky say anything?" he asked gently.

Kurt paused, thinking. "No. I don't think so." He looked worried. "I don't even remember." He slurred the last word, and frowned.

Blaine rubbed Kurt's neck in a way that he hoped was affectionate without being painful. "It's probably just temporary amnesia," he suggested, racking his brains to try to recall where he'd learnt that. "You should be alright." He thought for a moment. "Let's see what else you remember. Tell me about you."

Kurt's frown grew deeper, but he nodded minutely and began. "My name is Kurt Hummel. My dad's name is Burt and my mum's name was Elizabeth." He paused, and coughed, grimacing at the pain. "Um, my stepmum is called Carole, and her son is Finn from New Direction, the glee club at McKinley High." He laughed softly. "I actually had a bit of a crush on him last year."

Really? thought Blaine. You kept that one quiet, Kurt. "And how did we meet?" he prompted.

Kurt smiled. "We were doing mash-ups in glee club," he said, "and the boys all pushed me out and told me to go do something useful, like spy on the Warblers. So I went to Dalton Academy and pretended to be a new student, and stopped you on the staircase." He beamed happily, and Blaine smiled back.

"I think you're gonna be fine," Blaine said.

The ambulance arrived a minute later, the paramedics rattling off an excuse to Blaine about a more pressing emergency, before checking out Kurt.

"We reckon he'd got concussion and probably some bruising on his ribs, but other than that, he'll heal up fine," one of the paramedics said, straightening up and moving back to where Blaine was loitering anxiously. She checked her watch. "We're going to take him back to the hospital overnight and most likely release him tomorrow morning."

"Most likely?" Blaine repeated hollowly, fiddling absently with his tie.

She didn't seem to hear. "Are you... family?" she asked doubtfully, looking from Blaine to Kurt.

Blaine shook his head. "No, no, I'm his – " he paused for a split second " – friend."

"Well, then, do you have a contact number for a family member? His mum or someone?"

"His dad'll be home soon." Should Blaine have called him? Told him what had happened? He hadn't thought of it. "Or his stepmum or his stepbrother or... someone."

"Right, well, could you tell them what's happened?"

"Yes. Sure." Blaine paused. "Wait – can't I go with him?"

The paramedics had begun painstakingly lifting Kurt onto their trolley. Kurt was trying to be of help, but just ended up making a lot of pained noises.

The other paramedic glanced up at him. "Sorry, son," he shrugged. "Family only."

"But he can't go on his own!" Blaine protested.

"Wait, what?" Kurt seemed to have caught on to the conversation. "Can't Blaine come? Please? He was the one who called you guys in the first place and he came straight here once he knew I was hurt – "

" – And I swear I wouldn't be any trouble, I'd sit in a waiting room as long as I needed to – or I could fetch Kurt things that he needed – "

" – I don't want to be in some room all by myself, and Blaine hasn't really got any way of getting home anyway..."

The paramedics exchanged looks. There was a moment of silence. Blaine held his breath.

"Okay, fine," the first paramedic said. "We give you a ride to the hospital and then you're on your own; it'll be the doctor's call whether or not you see him."

Kurt broke out in a grin, and Blaine nodded, smiling. "Thank you. Thanks."

The male paramedic climbed into the front of the ambulance, and the woman guided Blaine to one seat before settling herself in the one opposite. Blaine settled in, next to Kurt on the trolley. Kurt was breathing on a mouthpiece to numb the pain, and seemed a little zoned out. When he opened his eyes, though, he saw Blaine and leant forward, reaching for Blaine's hand. Blaine took Kurt's outstretched hand in his own and held it tightly, rubbing his thumb over Kurt's knuckles.

"How long have you two been going out?" the paramedic asked, breaking the silence.

Kurt didn't seem to hear the question, but Blaine raised his eyebrows in surprise and stared down awkwardly at Kurt's hand, feeling himself go red. "We're... we're not going out," he responded quietly.

"Oh, sorry, I thought..."

"Yeah, no, that's fine. People do." Blaine glanced up at Kurt, who was sitting still, eyes closed, but applying enough pressure to Blaine's hand for him to know that he was still awake.

The paramedic seemed to recognise something in Blaine's face. "Well, you two'd be cute together," she said, smiling slightly.

Blaine returned the smile and sat back in his seat, holding Kurt's hand close to his heart.


	45. Chapter 45

The whole night was a bit of a blur. As far as Kurt could remember, it mostly consisted of being checked over by different doctors, who all ended up thinking the same thing: concussion and bruised ribs, but otherwise he was just a bit shaken and it was nothing that wouldn't heal of its own accord. He asked about Blaine a couple of times but was told with a sympathetic look that Blaine wasn't family at each one.

After a while, Burt and Finn burst into the room.

"Kurt!" his father cried, throwing himself on top of Kurt in a tight hug. "Oh, god, Kurt, I was so worried – you can't do that to me, bud..."

"Dad," Kurt said, holding his father close, "your heart – "

"My heart's fine, luckily," Burt responded, "but are you?"

"Concussion, but basically I'm fine," Kurt shrugged, not wanting to go into details.

"How'd it happen, though, Kurt?" Finn asked, wide-eyed with concern.

"Doesn't matter," Kurt replied, but the shake in his voice gave his away.

"No, man, it wasn't – Karofsky? Again?" Finn sounded livid. Kurt was almost surprised that Finn hadn't suddenly up and left to go beat the living daylights out of his classmate. "This is a joke. How is he still legally allowed around people?"

Burt's face had gone very hard. "I'm called the police about this, Kurt. Don't you worry."

"No, Dad, don't, not tonight, at least," Kurt said desperately. He didn't know why, but he still felt he should try to defend Karofsky. There had to be method to his madness. "Look, please, go home and get some sleep. Both of you." He looked from his father to his stepbrother until they both nodded and made to go. "Oh, and – Dad? I don't know if he'd still there, but – ?"

"I'll get them to send Blaine in," Burt said, a slight smile playing on his face.

"Great. Thanks."

Kurt sat alone for a few minutes, fiddling with his bedsheet. This colour could not be flattering, especially with his cold skin tone...

There was a knock at the door. Straightening up, Kurt instinctively reached to fix his hair. "Come in," he called awkwardly.

The door swung open, revealing a tired but relieved-looking Blaine. He smiled sheepishly and shut the door behind him.

"I can't believe you waited," Kurt said.

"Of course I did," Blaine shrugged.

Kurt reached out and Blaine hurried over and enveloped him in a hug that lasted several seconds longer than strictly necessary. Kurt could have sworn he heard Blaine sniff. "Blaine, are you...?"

"No," Blaine replied quickly, pulling away from Kurt and shaking his head. "I just... I was so worried, Kurt. I've been sitting in that waiting room for hours. And your dad and Finn arrived, but they weren't allowed in in case you got overexcited or something, and no-one would tell me what was going on... Never do that to me again, okay?" Blaine hiccoughed and hugged Kurt again, tightly.

Kurt laughed gently. "I'm fine, thanks for asking," he said quietly.

After another few minutes – although Kurt had no real way of knowing the time – another doctor came in to shoo Blaine out, claiming that Kurt needed rest. Kurt tried to protest, but Blaine nodded and gave Kurt's hand one last squeeze. "You get better, okay?" was the final thing he said before going. Kurt nodded his head obediently, smiling a goodbye.


	46. Chapter 46

Blaine turned Kurt's phone over in his hands. He'd actually surprised himself by coming into school, despite arriving home at stupid o'clock in the morning to a dark and silent house. So no-one had stayed up waiting for him. Having got barely any sleep, Blaine had risen at his usual time and left for school as normal.

Unsurprisingly, Kurt wasn't in school, but, as Blaine had his phone, they could hardly text. He'd seen it the night before on the ground and pocketed it, forgetting all about it until he arrived back home.

Dalton felt somewhat empty without Kurt. It always did when he was away. Of course, Blaine had other friends, but Wes and David had urgent Warbler council business and Trent... well, Trent was too jolly to fit Blaine's sombre mood. He was exhausted, yes, but buzzing with anger and the desire to beat Dave Karofsky to a pulp. There was no guarantee of this happening even if he tried, but he'd give it his damn best shot.

The cold winter air was doing well at reminding him to be angry – that, and the notion that if Kurt were here, he'd be sitting on their bench in the memorial garden with Blaine.

At that moment, however, Blaine was distracted from his seething by the buzzing of Kurt's phone: he'd got a text message from Finn.

Blaine frowned. Surely, of all people, Finn would know that Kurt didn't have his phone with him. Thankfully, Blaine knew Kurt's passcode and opened the message properly.

_Kurt said he lost his phone. Is that you Blaine?_

Blaine smiled. He didn't really know Finn, but evidently Finn already knew him more than well enough. To be fair, though, Finn did seem an excellent judge of character. Hoping Kurt wouldn't mind him using his texts, Blaine started typing back.

_Yes it is. Hi Finn. I thought I'd look after Kurt's phone for him but I forgot I had it on me._

Finn's reply came through a moment later:

_That's ok. I wanted to ask you what happened to him. He won't tell me or his dad._

Obviously he won't, thought Blaine. He doesn't want to kick up a stink about Karofsky after everything that's happened already – especially after the transfer to Dalton. Blaine mentally apologised to Kurt before sending his next message.

_It was Karofsky. That's all I know._

Blaine waited for a reply that didn't come. He wondered what Finn was doing, and hoped it wasn't anything stupid. He was surprised, however, when another text came through, several minutes later:

_Is this Blaine?_

It was from someone called Puck; Blaine recognised the name but didn't believe they'd ever met. Was this the guy with the mohawk he'd seen for a second at the Christmas fête?

_Yes, it is. I don't believe we've had the pleasure, Puck._

_Calm down, Hair Gel. Finn says Karofsky put Kurt in hospital? Says you told him._

Hair Gel? Blaine thought blankly for a moment. Really? He self-consciously ran a hand over his hair before replying.

_That's what Kurt told me._

A minute later, Blaine was met with a barrage of messages from people whose names he recognised and whose names he didn't, all asking about Kurt and Karofsky and how exactly Blaine had come across Kurt's phone. He took his time reading through all of them.

_Sam Evans: Just to say that if you want to join in on us kicking the crap out of Karofsky, McKinley car park after school today._

_Brittany Pierce: So, you're Blaine, but my phone says you're Kurt. Have you swapped bodies?_

_Mercedes Jones: Thanks for looking after Kurt, white boy. I owe you one x_

_Mike Chang: Is Kurt okay? Did Karofsky really attack him?_

_Quinn Fabray: Give my best to Kurt when you see him, Blaine._

_Santana Lopez: Good thing Snix is on your side, Blaine Warbler. I plan on dealing with Karofsky personally._

_Artie Abrams: Is this really Blaine? I heard you saved Kurt's life. is he doing okay?_

_Tina Cohen-Chang: Thanks for looking out for Kurt. It means a lot to all of us._

Rachel Berry's message, however, topped them all:

_1. Why is Kurt in HOSPITAL?_

_2. What are you doing with his phone?_

_3. Is Kurt going to be okay?_

_4. Thank you for helping him._

_5. If you're free after school, I believe that there's a plan to kill Dave Karofsky._

_6. Would that have something to do with it?_

Blaine considered going through and replying to each one, but had his choice made for him by the school bell. One thing was sure, though: he'd be heading straight for McKinley straight after school.


	47. Chapter 47

More than anything, a day spent in hospital was boring.

Kurt had practically memorised every detail of his room: from the hard grey bed, to the papery white curtains drifting half-heartedly in the breeze coming from the open window, to the tinny TV in the corner (on which he was currently watching American Idol reruns), everything seemed sickeningly familiar despite his only recent acquaintance with it. The doctors had collectively decided that he should stay in the hospital for observation, just in case (in case of what, they didn't say), and that he could go home later on that day. Burt had wanted to stay with his son, but Kurt insisted that he go to work as normal, and only return to pick Kurt up that afternoon.

That moment couldn't come soon enough, and Kurt spent the day willing it to go faster. He felt lost without his phone, wondering if, as Finn had suspected, Blaine picked it up last night. He couldn't really remember anything after his meeting with Karofsky and that worried him, so he tried not no think about it – as the doctors had advised. Temporary amnesia, apparently, cured itself soon enough.

It seemed a lifetime before the knock on the door came and Burt pushed it open.

"Dad!" Kurt exclaimed brightly, a beam spreading across his face for the first time that day.

"Hey, bud," Burt smiled, shutting the door and sitting down next to the bed. He was carrying a large sports bag that Kurt immediately nodded towards.

"What's that?"

Burt looked sheepish. "I, uh, brought you some clothes for the journey home. Figured you wouldn't want to wear your Dalton uniform."

Kurt's hands instinctively brushed over the hospital gown he was wearing. "Wow, Dad, thank you," he said. He paused, thinking that the bag looked very full, and frowned. "How many clothes did you bring?"

At this point, Burt's eyes seemed to rest anywhere other than on Kurt. "Well, I know how... particular you are about your clothes, so I... brought you a selection to choose from."

"Oh, Dad!" Kurt laughed. "That's so... thoughtful."

After a moment, Burt cracked a smile too.

Soon, Kurt was dressed and ready to go – and Burt had learnt a lot about how to properly fold waistcoats.

Checking the time, Kurt comment, "we could go pick Finn up from school."

Burt looked surprised, but nodded. "Yeah, we'd have time for that. You want to?"

Kurt nodded in response. "Would you mind?"

"Not in the slightest. C'mon, Kurt, let's get out of here."


	48. Chapter 48

Blaine had realised that all of McKinley basically looked the same – from the outside, at least: crude grey fences and harsh gravel, almost like some kind of prison, was the only outdoor space available. There were no trees, no green spaces, no memorial garden.

He hadn't wanted to arrive early, but, at the same time, he didn't want to kiss anything. How were the McKinley kids even planning to lure Karofsky here, anyway?

Blaine had only been loitering by a dumpster for a few minutes when he heard a loud bell signifying the end of the day and saw students starting the file out of the building and head off in all directions. The sun hung low and cold in the sky.

"Well, if it isn't Hummel's little butt-buddy."

Blaine felt his fists clench and stomach tense as he immediately turned to face Karofsky, who was accompanied by another large kid that Blaine didn't recognise. He did note both boys' red letterman jackets.

For a moment, Blaine's resolve faltered. He didn't actually really was to hurt Karofsky, and it wasn't in his nature to be violent anyway. Flight over fight every time.

But the thought of Kurt, lying bloodied and broken in the cold and the gravel, sobbing for help down the phone, caught him and shook his common sense away. Karofsky couldn't just get away with this. He couldn't.

"Have you seen Kurt recently?" Blaine asked coldly in response.

To his surprise, Karofsky stayed oddly silent.

Thankfully, Blaine was saved having to cope with the situation alone by a shout from across the car park. Finn was jogging towards them, flagged by the rest of the football players come glee members.

Once they'd made it over, the guy Blaine assumed must be Puck turned to Karofsky's friend. "Get outta here, Azimio," he said sternly. "We're here to talk to Karofsky."

Azimio seemed confused, and unsure whether or not to leave. "The hell I'm going, Puckerman!" he responded eventually.

Again Karofsky surprised Blaine. "It's alright, bro, I got this," he said in a measured tone over his shoulder.

"Man, you sure?" Azimio didn't really sound as though he cared.

"Yeah. I'm sure." At this, Karofsky's friend shrugged and, with the surly look at each of the party, headed out the gates.

Finn seemed to size Karofsky up. "Alright, man, you know I don't like you. You treated Kurt like crap and everyone here thinks you're disgusting. But Kurt left and we all thought that was it. The only times we'd have to even look at you would be during football practice. And then you screwed that up." All of a sudden, Finn launched himself forwards into Karofsky, his arm swinging out and catching Karofsky on the side of the head. Karofsky gasped in surprise and fell sideways into the dumpster. On this, the rest of the McKinley guys seemed to jump into action, grappling with Karofsky and forcing him down, laying into him with punches and kicks. Karofsky seemed astonishingly unperturbed by it all, Blaine thought. Yes, he was built like a small nuclear bunker, but the sheer number of boys should have had some kind of effect.

Then Mike Chang caught him hard in the stomach, causing him to double over fully and the rest of the guys to throw him down onto the ground. He seemed satisfyingly injured when the finally pulled back – not critically, but enough.

The McKinley guys pulled back, a few of them turning to face Blaine, who was awkwardly standing a few feet away.

"Blaine?" Finn sounded concerned. Karofsky, despite the let-up, didn't move from where he was lying on the ground.

"Hmm?" Blaine knew what Finn was asking, but didn't to answer him.

Finn stepped back from Karofsky, motioning for Blaine to step forward.

Blaine took a sharp breath. He couldn't harm Karofsky. Not after everything he said to Kurt. Not after everything he'd been through. Not after all the violence that'd already happened. He made a decision. He decided to walk away, to talk to Kurt about this, to keep his morals firm and conscience clear. He nodded to himself and knew this was the right thing to do –

And yet all of a sudden he'd run forward and his foot had sunk into Karofsky's stomach.

It was an odd kind of exhilaration, to kick Karofsky. It was as though Blaine was fighting back against every bully who'd ever hurt him – who'd ever hurt Kurt. He reminded himself that that's whom this was about, and he only kicked harder, feeling a dark, quiet rage pooling in his stomach and clawing its way into his brain.

Blaine paused for a moment, breathing heavily. His body was shaking with adrenaline and his mind felt numb. Karofsky started to pull himself up onto his knees and Blaine swung a final punch that sent him sprawling.

Clenching and unclenching his fists against the pain in them, Blaine noticed the hush that had fallen across the car park behind him. He glanced over his should, seeing all the McKinley guys, and then noticing who they were all staring at.

Kurt was standing not ten feet behind the group of them, a shocked expression still on his face.

Blaine froze, and felt his blood run cold. What must Kurt think of him now? An unintelligent idiot who solved all his problems with his fists? He internally banged his head against a very hard wall. "Kurt," he murmured in surprise.


	49. Chapter 49

It was an odd scene: the crowd of glee boys, forming a rough semi-circle around Blaine and Karofsky, standing in horrified silence, all stared at him with their mouths hanging open; Blaine, his eyes full of guilt and tie hanging askew, stood with his hands in his pockets and stuck out like a sore thumb in his Dalton uniform; Karofsky just lay still on the ground, face down but clearly breathing. Kurt didn't know what to do – thankfully, though, Burt had parked the other side of the lot and couldn't see what was happening. The group of boys just stood stock still in silence for a few moments. Kurt noticed that, once Blaine had gotten over his shock at seeing Kurt, he determinedly wasn't looking at him.

"What are you doing here, Kurt?" Finn was the one to break the silence.

Kurt dragged his eyes away from Blaine to focus on his stepbrother. "I just got discharged. We thought we'd come say hi."

Finn gasped. "Your dad – "

"He's round the corner," Kurt responded quietly. "He can't see us."

Finn nodded slowly. "Are you going to...?"

Kurt exhaled and shook his head. "No, I won't tell him. But maybe you should go and meet him so he doesn't come looking for us."

Finn nodded immediately, more enthusiastically this time. "I'll tell him you're – I'll just tell him you're – oh," he said, gesturing vaguely, "y'know."

Kurt half-smiled and Finn jogged away. Silence fell again, and everyone looked uncomfortable.

"Kurt, man," Puck grinning, coming forward and clapping Kurt lightly on the shoulder. "Good to see you; we were worried."

"Puckerman, I know you put Finn up to this," Kurt scolded, pointing authoritatively at Puck. "So help me, I will figure out what I'll do with you the moment I get a chance. But for now – " his eyes scanned across the other guys in their red jackets " – you guys, I appreciate the sentiment, but... could you please just go?"

The McKinley boys all nodded obediently and walked past Kurt away, reaching out to pat him when they neared.

That left Kurt, Blaine, and Karofsky. Karofsky was clearly conscious, slowly flexing his limbs and groaning quietly. Kurt glanced briefly at Blaine before kneeling down next to Karofsky. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Shut the hell up, Hummel," Karofsky spat. "I don't need none of your fairy dust to fight my battles for me."

For an instant, Kurt was overwhelmed by an astonishing urge to kick Karofsky in the face. He swallowed his anger, but stood up and walked away, pulling Blaine away too by the sleeve. Kurt still didn't know whether or not to be angry. Blaine was defending him, but at the same time... No, Kurt assured himself. There is no excuse for violence, anywhere. He'd been fighting too hard and too long against it to sink to their level.

So, as it was, Kurt rounded on Blaine. "What the hell were you thinking?" he spluttered angrily.

"Look, Kurt, I know what you're gonna say," Blaine said quickly, holding up both his hands. "I'm sorry, alright? It was a – an error judgement. A big one. I shouldn't've – ever – I just – oh, god – " Blaine ducked his head and rubbed his eyes hard. When he looked up again, Kurt did a double-take. Were there tears in Blaine's eyes? "I'm so sorry, Kurt. I am. You have no idea how stupid I feel right now." He paused to take a breath. "Wait – how are you? You only just got discharged? Did something happen?"

Kurt was too surprised to be angry. That wasn't the reaction he'd expected. "I'm fine, Blaine," he said quietly. He paused. "How did you even know to come here?"

Blaine already guilty face went red. He reached into his pocket and pulled out – Kurt's phone. Kurt breathed a sigh of relief. At least he needn't worry about that anymore. "Some of the guys texted me. Well – you. I guess."

Kurt took his phone back and pocketed it. "Why did you do it, Blaine?" he asked wearilt. "Why beat up Karofsky? What good did it do?"

"It made me feel better."

"It made you feel better?" If anything, Kurt thought, it was him who needed to feel better, not Blaine. Blaine hadn't been in hospital all day.

Blaine heard the sarcasm in his voice and looked up. "Kurt, I know you had it worse than me, okay, but I just felt so – so awful. It was hard. I felt – helpless. He'd attacked you and there was nothing I could do about it."

Kurt frowned and shook his head. "You called the ambulance. You saved me, Blaine."

"I shouldn't have needed to!" Blaine exclaimed. He laughed mirthlessly, and Kurt could clearly see the tears in his eyes. There was no mistaking them. He felt his own eyes sting. "Kurt, he shouldn't have attacked you in the first place, and if – if he did it again... I just don't know what I'd do."

Kurt looked hard at Blaine.

"Kurt, if something happened to you... I don't know what I'd do." Blaine wiped his eyes and sniffed in a masculine sort of way. "And that idea, it just makes me so..."

"Violent?" Kurt suggested, trying and failing to stay angry.

"Scared." Blaine's brown eyes found Kurt's blue ones and held them there. "Kurt, I – you're so special, Kurt." He said it completely sincerely.

Before he knew what he was doing, Kurt had thrown his arms around Blaine's neck – not caring that Karofsky was maybe only feet away, and not caring that he was supposed to be mad right now.

"I'm not condoning what you did," he said after a while.

"I know," Blaine breathed quietly. Kurt felt the air tickle his ear.

The two boys stood together in silence, holding each other tightly.

Kurt was the first to let go. "I should go," he said, "to find Dad and Finn."

Blaine nodded. "Okay, Kurt. See you at school tomorrow?"

Laughing, Kurt replied, "just try to stop me. I've got enough catch-up work as it is."

Blaine chuckled, nodded a goodbye. "Be careful," he said.

Kurt smiled affectionately. "You too. See you later."

With that, Kurt turned and walked away, Blaine heading towards the gates and Kurt his dad's car.

Later that evening, Kurt's phone buzzed with a text from Blaine.

_I'm glad you're alright._

Kurt immediately texted back.

_Me too. Thanks._

He didn't think that he need say what the 'thanks' was really for.


	50. Chapter 50

Words couldn't describe how happy Blaine was that Kurt had forgiven him so quickly. Even so, he made a promise to himself to never betray Kurt's trust like that again. It just wasn't worth it – losing Kurt just because he'd lost his temper? What a bum deal.

He decided to give Kurt some space. After everything, he must want some time to himself. And, hey, if he wanted Blaine, he could always pick up the phone.

The next morning, at school, Blaine waited anxiously in home room. Would Kurt come in? If he didn't, Blaine wouldn't see Kurt until Monday, and the thought made Blaine nervous.

Trent slid into his seat next to Blaine as usual. "Hey," he said brightly.

Blaine looked up and caught his friend's eye. "Hi," he smiled, feeling a pang of guilt in his stomach about neglecting him the day before. "Hey, listen, I – about yesterday, I'm – "

"No need to apologise, Blaine," Trent interrupted, shaking his head good-naturedly. "You were worried; I get it." He leant forward, a slight frown creating lines in his forehead. "How is Kurt? Have you seen him?"

Blaine nodded. He was pleased that Trent understood, and figured it was only fair to answer his questions. "Yeah, he's fine. Luckily. They discharged him yesterday afternoon."

Trent relaxed. "That's good." He looked as though he wanted to ask something else.

"He wasn't sure whether he was gonna be in today or not," Blaine said, hazarding a guess at Trent's query.

"Oh, okay." Trent shuffled in his chair. "But – Blaine," he began, "what happened? Actually?"

Blaine swallowed the bad taste in his mouth. "Karofsky happened," he spat. "The guy at Kurt's old school who was giving him a hard time?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting for Trent to react.

He looked shellshocked. "He put Kurt in hospital?" he spluttered eventually. "Oh my god," he said when Blaine nodded solemnly.

Just then, Kurt walked into the room. Blaine saw him and felt his own face light up.

Kurt's face, on the other hand, looked as if he had shoved it in a blender, albeit gently. His right eye was still swollen and a discomforting shade of purple, and the rest of his face was littered with other little bruises and scratches. Blaine imagined that under Kurt's uniform probably would look even worse, and then had to stop himself imagining under Kurt's uniform as Kurt sat down.

"Kurt!" Trent exclaimed happily, beaming. "It's so good to see you."

"Morning, Trent," Kurt smiled. "It's great to be back." His eyes flicked across to Blaine. "Hi, Blaine," he said.

Had he said it sharply? Was there an underlying tone, still disapproving of Blaine's action of the day before? Blaine couldn't tell.

"Hi, Kurt," he said. "It's good to have you back." And he meant it. He hadn't been this happy to see Kurt since the Christmas fête – when he'd been standing alone on the stage, and Kurt had stepped in to save his duet at the last minute.

"Thanks, Blaine." With that, the three of them lapsed into comfortable silence, Kurt fiddling consciously with his hair the way he did, until their teacher hurried in with a big pile of papers to start the school day.

Lessons seemed to fly by, Blaine always looking forward to the next time he would see Kurt again. The two of them met Trent, Wes and David In the memorial garden at first break; they spent all of lunch break chatting over their meals; they squeezed in next to Stefan and Hugo on their sofa at after-school Warblers practice.

"First off," Wes announced, "an important notice. We just all wanted to say a welcome back to Warbler Kurt, and offer all our support should you need it." There was a selection of agreement and applause, and Kurt smiled awkwardly. "Now," Wes continued briskly, "it has come to the attention of a few Warblers that there are a couple of events in the coming year that we may consider preparing a set for. Not just thinking of Regionals – and Nationals, should we get there – but other celebrations. David pointed out that the Christmas fête performances went down so well, and this led to a discussion in which Nick – " Wes gestured towards a blond boy Blaine rcognised, who waved meekly " – suggested that we could perform for Valentine's day."

There were a few murmurs around the room. Most of them seemed favourable.

Blaine cleared his throat. "I think that's an excellent idea," he said.

Wes nodded . David half-stood and suggested, "should we take a vote?"

The proposal, unsurprisingly, won by a landslide. And Blaine was delighted to see the excitement in Kurt's eyes when Wes offhandedly suggested that there be auditions for soloists.

"I take it that someone's looking for a Valentine's solo?" Blaine whispered teasingly in Kurt's ear.

Kurt's cheeks reddened as Wes continued talking, and he turned slightly in his seat to face his friend. "Of course I am," he answered. "There are surprisingly few things I wouldn't do for a solo."

Why had Kurt had to say it like that? Blaine wondered, trying to subtly blink away the images creeping into his mind. He'd really have to work on not reading more into everything Kurt said. It wasn't appropriate – especially not now. After a moment, Blaine managed a smile, but stayed silent for the remainder of the meeting.

The weekend – and, in fact, the following week – passed without incident. Kurt was seeming to healing up very nicely, the bruises and scratches taking their time to fade. Warblers rehearsals had taken a turn for the romantic, with the hot topic being a potential Valentine's day performance. Blaine and his father seemed to be back on their usual terms; although (and Blaine didn't know whether to be happy about this or not), Mr Anderson had stopped suggesting bonding trips for the two of them. Overall, Blaine mused, things were going rather well.

The next event of note, so to speak, happened the following Saturday. Blaine was channel-hopping, sitting lopsidedly in an armchair. He was wearing bright blue skinny jeans and a white polo, and a navy bow tie sat wonkily on the side table where Blaine had discarded it.

Next to it, Blaine's mobile started vibrating. Blaine quickly swallowed the sweet he was eating and answered the call. "Mr Hummel," he said cheerily. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Hi, Blaine," Kurt voice replied. "Listen – can you come over?"

Blaine glanced at the clock. Quarter to three. "Sure," he responded immediately. "What's up?" He turned off the television.

"I, ah..." Kurt said.

"Kurt." Blaine paused, his eyes wide.

"No, no, it's fine," Kurt said quickly. "I'm fine. I'm just in a spot of bother."

Blaine relaxed at Kurt's words. "Okay, alright. So what bother are you in?" Saying the word "bother" lightened mood immensely.

The static of Kurt's laugh hissed in Blaine's ear. "Oh, god..."

"Kurt, what is it?"

There was a short pause. "It's Pavarotti. He's got out his cage and won't go back in."

Blaine laughed, but grabbed his jacket and finished doing up his bow tie. "Okay then, Kurt. I'm on my way."


	51. Chapter 51

Pavarotti had been acting a bit off all day. It had just so happened that, when Kurt opened the cage door, he flew out like a shot and started barrelling drunkenly around the room.

Kurt had quickly shut his door and windows, but it had been an hour before he'd thought to call Blaine. Chasing Pavarotti blindly around the room had turned out, unsurprisingly, to not be the most effective strategy, and he couldn't think of a better one, to capture the bird.

Suddenly, Kurt's door swung open to reveal Finn, looking confused. Kurt squealed unbecomingly and rolled across the bed, leaping out the room and pulling the door closed behind him. "What are you doing?" Kurt hissed.

"What are you doing?" Finn retorted. "You've been making weird noises up here for ages." He shrugged. "Also, Blaine's here."

"Downstairs?"

"Yeah – well, in the doorway. I said I'd fetch you."

Kurt nodded breathlessly and checked his hair with one hand. "Alright. Thank you, Finn. Blaine's just here to help with an emergency, so please don't open my door, okay?"

Finn shrugged. "Okay, fine."

The two of them had been getting along cordially since the Karofsky incident. Kurt hoped he wouldn't have to dwell on it again. He hopped down the stairs and pulled the front door open.

Blaine smiled as soon as he saw Kurt. "Hey," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Hi," Kurt beamed. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem," Blaine shrugged. "I was Pavarotti's keeper once; it's a tough job. He's a temperamental bird."

Kurt raised his eyebrows in agreement and motioned for Blaine to come inside, shutting the door behind him. He led the way up the stairs, Blaine keeping close behind.

"Okay, we've got to get inside quick so he doesn't have a chance to fly out," Kurt said. Blaine nodded.

They moved as one: Kurt wrenched the door open and Blaine dived through, before pulling Kurt through by the arm. In one swift movement, the door slammed shut behind them.

"Well, that went well," Blaine offered enthusiastically.

Kurt laughed – maybe at the ridiculousness of the whole operation, maybe because he was still very much flushed from chasing Pavarotti around, maybe just because Blaine was here, laughing with him now. Kurt leant back heavily against the door and surveyed the room. "Can you see him?" he asked Blaine, frowning.

Blaine shook his head. "No," he replied, stepping carefully across the room. He pulled back the curtains, opened the wardrobe doors, lifted the lid of Kurt's desk. He paused and withdrew his hand – with a sideways glace at Kurt – when he reached for the bedside cabinet. Kurt noticed, but didn't say anything. He was also searching the room – and feeling a growing sense of panic in the pit of his stomach, which increased with the time in which neither of them found Pavarotti.

"Kurt!" Blaine cried triumphantly from under his bed. Kurt burst out of his bathroom to see Blaine's legs haphazardly as he tried to extricate himself from under Kurt's bed without, it appeared, the use of his arms. Kurt saw why when Blaine emerged. He was cupping both his hands around a tiny, shaking, yellow blob. "Something's really spooked him," Blaine said pityingly, stroking the bird gently with a finger.

"That's odd," Kurt frowned, coming over to look at him. "He seemed fine this morning."

Blaine shrugged. "It's probably nothing. I wouldn't worry." He smiled warmly. "After all, there isn't really anything we can do about it." He began to coax the still trembling Pavarotti into Kurt's outstretched hands.

"Poor little guy," Kurt said sadly. "I wish I knew what was wrong with him."

Blaine sighed and draped an arm lazily around Kurt's shoulders. "If birds could talk," he speculated, "the questions we would answer." He laughed lightly. "You don't have anything incriminating under your bed, do you?" he joked, grinning cheekily at Kurt's horrified expression.

Kurt shook his head meekly and tried not to think about the pinpricks of goosebumps he was getting down his back at the contact, even through a fair few layers of clothing, of Blaine's arm on him. "If there is anything, it's not mine," he shrugged.

Blaine suddenly gave him a look. Kurt struggled to indentify this look. It was almost a kind of look that seemed disbelieving, but then there was a bit of Blaine's normal 'look' look in there – Kurt remembered that look being flashed at him a thousand times. Over coffee, the first time they'd met; during their performance of 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' at the Christmas fête; a week ago, in the McKinley car park. Anyhow, it was quite a nice look to get from Blaine: it was the kind of look that punched him in the stomach and swept his feet out from under him, but somehow never involved pain or falling.

"What?" Kurt asked, once he figured he'd held Blaine's gaze for long enough.

Blaine's eyes quickly hit the floor and he shrugged and shook his head. Kurt felt himself redden – why, he didn't know – and focused on bringing Pavarotti back to some kind of normalcy.

After a moment, Blaine joined him, brushing his fingers lightly over Pavarotti's feathers (and, incidentally, Kurt's hands). Pavarotti seemed to be recovering, sitting up and fluffing his feathers. Kurt looked at Blaine for a moment – his dark eyebrows furrowed his mouth slightly open – and swallowed, trying to calm his, all of a sudden racing, heart.

Blaine glanced up and immediately Kurt looked back down at Pavarotti, rocking his hands gently.

Clearing his throat, Blaine stepped back. "Well, I think he'll be fine," he declared brightly.

Kurt nodded, walking slowly round to the perch on his bedside table and coaxing Pavarotti onto it. "Poor Pav." He shook his head. "What do you think could've spooked him like that, though?"

Blaine shrugged. "It could have been anything. Maybe there was a cat on your windowsill." He raised his eyebrows. "I mean, he never did that with me, so..."

"Oh, no – is it me?" Kurt asked, worried. "Is it my room?"

"No, no, I doubt it," Blaine answered quickly. He smiled tentatively, catching Kurt's eye. "It's probably nothing worth worrying about. But, if he does it again, feel free to call me." He laughed gently. "Stop worrying about it!"

Kurt did his best to stop frowning, and tried a smile.

"There we go," Blaine grinned. He pulled out his phone and looked at the time on it. "Oh, wow – it's been ages. Time flies, eh?" He winked at Kurt. "I'd better get going; will you and Pav be okay?"

Kurt blushed what felt like a very dark shade of red. "Yeah, we'll be fine," he said, smiling.

He showed Blaine out and headed kitchenward. After all the excitement, he was parched.

The clock in the kitchen told him it was half past five. Wow, he thought. Time really did fly.


End file.
